Strawberry and the Exile
by Enigma Hakuteiken
Summary: What will happen when a hormonal Ichigo has Lisa Yadomaru as his Babysitter for a week while his sisters and dad are gone for a school camping trip? Lemons and adventure ensue!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Your babysitter will be here in five!" Ichigo's dad called from downstairs. "Be on your best behaviour—you're representing the Kurosaki household! No drugs, alcoho—"

Ichigo slammed open the door to his room. "Cut it, Goat-Chin!"

"No drugs! No alcohol! No stripp—"

"What the hell, you old man?! I already told you! I'm fifteen. I don't need a damn babysitter!"

He got a hearty laugh in response. "Just in case," his dad said with a smirk and ducked through the front door. A second later Yuzu followed through, giving Ichigo an excited smile and wave before turning away.

A tight grimace tugged at Ichigo's brow as he massaged his temples. Such a pain his dad was at times. Ichigo had been expecting a peaceful week to himself while Yuzu and Karin were off on their school camp along with Goat-Chin while he was on semester break. But no. His secret stash of Hentai Manga had been found when they were packing and cleaning out the cupboards. The memory of the incident and discussion after was still burned into his cheeks.

Though worst of all, in a moment of typical Isshin-like deviousness, he had decided to hire a babysitter for the week, reasoning that Ichigo needed the supervision. As if. Ichigo was the most mature of the family next to Karin—so what if he had normal hormonal urges every now and then.

So stupid. So lame.

He sighed and exited his room, lightly jogging down the stairs. The third step creaked. He eyed a crack in the wood and made a note to fix that sometime.

He looked out the door. The sun was still setting. But no babysitter or any humans or ghosts in sight. He was probably coming by car.

A bloody babysitter. The thought still irked him to hell. He didn't need a stranger watching his every move for an entire week. He didn't need to be treated like a baby… Not since his mother died… He'd been more of an adult than a child ever since. Seeing her lifeless, bloodied form lay on the concrete like that had aged his soul at least a decade. He was no child.

Groaning, Ichigo sat on the bottom step and clawed at its coat of dust. He stared out the door, glaring, waiting, expecting some old grouch to appear any minute. Gods, that was the last thing he needed. Some old guy—a real old guy unlike Goat-Chin—stinking up the place. Why couldn't he'd just been left alone? Left alone with his magazines. Left alone to finally get over his mother. She wouldn't have wanted to see him in such a sad state.

Perhaps thinking about his magazines and his mother at the same time wasn't needed either. Boy was he fucked in the head. Being able to see ghosts only proved it to him. No one believed him too.

As the street darkened, he mentally recited guitar tabs till his mind cleared. Sweet jazz played in his mind's ear. He'd gotten real good at it too. Chad had gotten him into guitar to help him cope. It worked, and it worked now even without physically playing.

Though he just couldn't push those damned magazines out for good. They'd gotten him into this mess. Those slender, beautiful 2D goddesses were forever burned into his eye sockets. He breathed and palmed his eyes hard. It was no use. Now that he'd thought about it, the pictures would pop out from the depths of his mind every thirty seconds. And it'd been weeks since he last jerked off. Suddenly his jeans were tight around his crotch.

"Hello, I'm Lisa Yadomaru, your babysitter," a smooth feminine voice dryly said. "You're Ichigo Kurosaki?"

He let his hands drop as his head jolted up. Against the mauve sky stood a stunning young woman probably only a few years older than himself. She was slim, her features sharp but soft on her light skin, adorned by her braided jet-black hair. She wore a cute sailor top and miniskirt he'd only ever seen in his magazines. Oh, that outfit made him harder than ever. And from his angle, he could see her inner-thighs and a tiny peek of her lacy panties. His jaw sagged as saliva pooled.

He jumped to his feet and bowed from the waist. "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki! Nice to meet you!" He offered a hand stiffly. Too stiff.

She leaned back an inch or two.

Way too stiff. Damn hormones.

After a few seconds she shook his hand. "You too…" she said in a clipped tone.

He swallowed, forcing himself to look into those turquoise eyes and not her outfit. She had quite the pair.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," he answered too quickly. His chest thumped like mad.

She frowned, then looked him up and down. Her eyes hitched on his way too obvious boner. Not good. A hammer of dread hit him in the neck. Would she slap him? Would she call Goat-Chin this moment and tell him how much of a sicko his son was? Would she just leave? All the horrid possibilities rattled in his head as his erection wouldn't fade.

A look of understanding emerged on her face. She smirked.

He stopped breathing.

"So what are we doing tonight?" She kept smirking.

"I…" He took a breath. "I was going to read a bit…" Read his Hentai magazines, he really meant. "And play my guitar." He looked down, blushing, only to look at her slender legs again. His jeans bulged even more.

"Oh you play?" Her tone was playful.

"Yeah."

"Then play for me. Let's see what you've got."

"Alright," he almost squeaked and turned to ascend the stairs. "It's up in my room. Come." His body was in a frenzy. Hearing the door shut and click, he raced up the stairs and made sure his magazines were well hidden.

"This is turning out to be not as boring as I thought," he heard Lisa say, still on the stairs. Her steps were near silent.

Ichigo palmed his knees, heaving, as he took in what just happened. First, this sailor-outfit wearing goddess was his babysitter for an entire week! Second, she saw his bulging erection and didn't even mention it. This would be the best week of his entire life so far.

Goat-chin was the best dad in all of Japan.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Got this idea while I was writing my other fic, which will be updated soonish. What do you think?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Ichigo dared not to look at the beauty sitting on his bed for the fear that his boner might return. He concentrated on the metal strings and tuning pegs of his acoustic guitar. His digital tuner had run out of juice. A shame. He'd been tuning for two minutes now as his heart beat a bit too loudly. Lisa still hadn't said a word since her comment on the stairs. He needed to impress her—somehow. This slow display certainly wasn't impressive. He swallowed, a drop of sweat rolling down his neck and chest.

Lisa had moved so silently, so gracefully when she entered he'd almost missed her. She'd only tossed her backpack into the corner and dumped herself onto his bed. She didn't even ask permission. It was his spot. His bed. His nest that he'd jerked off too many times on… and he still hadn't changed the sheets since the last time he'd made a mess. She was sitting right on top of his Hentai stash beneath the mattress. How would she react if she knew those things? He steadied his breath and wiped his sweaty hand on his shirt.

As the last string was tuned he peeked at Lisa at the corner of his eye. She sat lazily against the wall, one knee outstretched and the other against her chest, blocking the view of her crotch. She flashed him that same smirk again, still silent. Those turquoise eyes bored into him like nothing else. No girls at Karakura High had eyes like that—or wore such sexy outfits. In fact, not a single woman in Karakura was like Lisa. Where was she from? Ichigo filed the query into his mind, then recalled a simple jazz piece he'd recently practiced. No lyrics. He wasn't a singer—he didn't have the voice for that.

And so he played, making no mistakes. No imperfections for the perfect girl watching him like a predator. His fingers moved as if someone else was in control as the notes flowed. He let it flow, letting the jazz become his nature. The music started somber, almost mellow, then picked up into a near-cheer. He gave attention to the jazz motifs. Those were important. The notes and chords here and there cascaded one after another, filling the room with the right mood he loved of jazz. He took a risk, looking at Lisa—and choked a cough. His fingers slipped and cut the piece short.

Her panties were in clear view. She'd moved her leg slightly, enough for him to see everything. White, lacy, and semi see-through. He could just make out the outline of her pussy. He tore his gaze away as his erection sprang to life.

"Not bad… Pretty good actually," she said without covering herself. She had to know he could see. There was no way she didn't. He'd stared for a handful of seconds.

He swallowed. "Th-than," he stuttered and coughed purposefully. "Thanks," he said with false confidence.

She smirked yet again. What was with that crooked smirked that suggested so much? He was starting to hate it but love it too. Gods, he was already crushing on her. This was one hell of a night.

She shifted, curling her straight leg so that he now had a wider view. Her skirt rode up higher. What a tease she was. "How long have you played?"

He kept looking at her panties, finding it impossible to meet her eyes. "A few years…" He decided to start playing again. Maybe he should just stop dancing around the point and tell her what he really wanted. She definitely knew.

"You're quite talented then—if you've only played for a few." She put a hand on her thigh. "What's that song called?" she asked as the music slowed.

He shrugged. "Some Spanish name." It was true. He didn't care much for the artist or the name. He only played for the music.

"Hmmm, maybe Shinji would know…"

Shinji?

"You two would get along well."

Shinji was a guy's name, right?

He stopped playing, a cold weight seeping through his chest. This could be someone's hot girlfriend whom he's ogling right now.

"Just a friend."

He felt instantly better. Though he blushed from how easy he was to read. Why did this one girl have such an effect on him when he could ignore all the ones at school? Perhaps it was because she was so different. So forward. "Tch." He looked away. "I didn't care anyway."

She laughed. The sound of her amusement was amazing. Light, creamy, velvety even. He wanted to hear more when she stopped. "How many songs do you know?"

So back to the game then. Though he was indeed enjoying the conversation. "I'd say around two hundred." He wasn't boasting. This guitar had helped him through his torment much more than he let on.

"Two hundred," Lisa said, tilting her head. "All as nice as that one? All jazz?"

So many questions. Was this what a date was like? He certainly felt like was on a date with her—right here in his room. Right here on his cum stained bed. Her leg was touching the spot he'd made a mess at. The thought turned him on like no other. "Yeah, all jazz," he finally said. He began playing again, switching to a slower piece. Girls liked slow, sappy music right? Though Lisa wasn't any ordinary girl. She was still displaying her underwear right in front of him. He tried to sink further into his beanbag chair—as if it would hide the bulge in his pants. At least the guitar was partially in the way.

Why even be embarrassed? She clearly didn't mind.

"Where are you from?" Ichigo asked. The simple melody didn't require as much focus.

"Countryside," she said after a moment. A small twist in her tone told him that was a lie. Or at least not the full truth. He let it drop, deciding that it wasn't a big deal. Girls were weird like that. They'd do strange things he couldn't understand every now and then—apparently Lisa included.

He ended the jazz with a suitable cadence, confidence rising in him. "Nice outfit. I like sailor girls." He tried to mirror the smirk she kept giving him then deliberately looked at her chest and panties.

She laughed a breath. "I can see that." Her hand slipped back onto her thigh, much closer to her panties this time. Her thumb touched the fabric. His face was on fire. "I like Anime-styled clothing. Do you ever watch?"

Ichigo's gaze flickered to under the bed. He'd forgotten about his magazines. "Yeah." A half-truth would suffice. "But mostly Manga."

"Oh? Which ones?"

Shit.

He looked to the shelf—where there were no Manga books whatsoever. Double shit. "Ahhh…" She also looked to the shelf. "The typical ones you know? Dragonball and them. I think Karin took them to camp." He put on his best fake smile.

"Hmph, of course." Her hand inched closer to her panties. Why couldn't she just take them off? He was close to losing his sanity—close to tackling her against the bed. Damn the consequences. She clearly wanted it. But he took a large breath and held on, watching her slow display.

Her stomach rumbled, almost startling Ichigo.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her tummy. "What about you?"

Damn. He was certain she was about to do something extraordinarily erotic. "A bit," he admitted. He had a large chicken wrap for lunch.

"Do you need me to cook?" She gave him a different smirk this time.

He shot her a half-glare. He couldn't scowl at her for more than a few seconds. "Of course not."

"Well, I'm cooking anyway." She jumped off his bed in a single motion that didn't make a sound. Her grace astounded him. She was agiler than his martial arts sensei. "I like to cook my own meals."

"Fine by me." He also stood and prepared to set his guitar back into its case. He wasn't nearly as fluid, clumsy in comparison. He'd need to ask her about that.

She grabbed her backpack and left. "Oh. You might want want to wash your bed sheets. Lots of sweat stains," she said over her shoulder, over-emphasizing the word sweat, before descending the stairs.

She knew! He almost lost balance as the embarrassment rammed into his side. She knew it all and didn't say a word about it. His erection. His cum stained bed. What else did she know? He wouldn't be surprised if she knew about his Hentai Manga as well, simply out of intuition. And yet… she put on such a show for him, wearing those scandalous panties and spreading her legs for the world to see. The curtains weren't even pulled over the windows. Endless glee began to pull at his face. This was a once in a lifetime chance to meet a girl like this, only a bit older than he. A one in a million girl as horny as he. Though unfortunately, his inexperience was showing—and it was obvious. He'd need to let her take the lead or else risk losing her, which meant playing along with this charade.

"Wow," he breathed and stowed his guitar and case into his closet. He stretched his arms and back, going through his martial arts routine, to make sure this wasn't a dream of course. He jumped, touching the ceiling, and pinched his side for extra measure. "Damn. That really happened." It wasn't a wet dream.

Letting his erection calm before heading down, he grabbed a fresh shirt, pair of jeans, and an alcoholic wipe to freshen his sweaty body. He was beginning to stink. Lisa wouldn't like that. But how would he know? Maybe she had a hundred fetishes on top of being an exhibitionist. Nevertheless, he wiped himself down and pulled on the clean clothing as quickly as he could. He checked his hair and face in a mirror before leaving the room.

The stairs creaked as usual. Strange. It didn't creak when Lisa walked on it. He filed the thought away with his other questions for her, even if it was as insignificant as this. He genuinely liked conversing with her about their surprisingly shared interests.

When he entered the kitchen and took in the sight he almost lost balance. Lisa stood behind the bench, chopping onions with that strange grace, in a cute lacy apron. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her sailor outfit and panties were on one of the dining table chairs, neatly folded. Was this still part of the charade? Ichigo gulped and took a loud step forward onto the polished tiles. She glanced up for a second, then resumed chopping.

"Help with the rice, kay?"

Ichigo nodded and walked to the cabinet as carefully as possible. This game of hers would surely cost him his sanity. "What are we making?"

"Stir fry with eggs and chicken. It was all that was left in your fridge. We'll have to go shopping tomorrow."

"Right." It was all he could say.

He collected a couple of cupfuls of rice and few spoons of spices, then headed to the sink—next to Lisa. He took a deep breath as he passed her from behind.

What an ass she had!

He lost it. With his free hand, he grabbed her behind, grabbing a cheek-full of her firm but soft flesh. It felt better than he had ever imagined. He pushed his waist against her and humped once with his bulging jeans. He was about to put the bowl of rice onto the bench to free his other hand when she spoke. "That rice isn't going to wash itself." She glanced back at him. That same seductive smirk was plastered over her face. She lightly pushed at his chest. An unfamiliar force made him step back.

The hell was that? Did he imagine that?

"Fine." He growled and snatched up the rice bowl. "Slut," he whispered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I like your apron." It was coming to him naturally now.

"I can definitely feel it." She chuckled.

He returned the chuckle—It sounded natural enough. As Ichigo cleaned the rice of impurities, he took liberal glances at the side of her figure. She was very slender and fit, slightly muscular but not overly so. Extremely attractive. Her breasts were full—C cup at least. She was just his type. He grinned and gently bumped her side. She returned the bump.

They cooked in relative silence, occasionally chatting about the food and their various tastes. She liked the typical Japanese diet and pretty much always cooked. Cooking relaxed her and cleared her mind in a way, similar to Ichigo. He also tried to look down her apron, or get a glance of her pussy, but every time he was in view she seemed to have a sixth sense and shift her stance. The arousal was burning his insides more every minute. He should have jerked off before coming down. Too late now.

At one point she had to bend over to take a frying pan out of the bottom drawer. He tried his best to find a good view but she crouched in a way that prevented it. Then a minute later she knocked a knife to the ground on her right, and she bent over in a way that would let him see everything. Before he had a full view of her pussy and ass, that weird force barrelled down on him, tripping his stance. He crumpled into onto the tiles. "Alright!" he barked. "What the hell was that! I know you did something!" He jumped to his feet, half enraged, half horny. He was on the verge of throwing himself at her and fucking her very roughly.

She dropped the pan onto the of the stove, turning down the heat, and looked at him. Her eyes twinkled above the flames. "It's called spiritual pressure. Few of us from the countryside are talented with it."

"Spiritual what?"

"Pressure. A manifestation of spirit energy. Everyone has it, just in different amounts. You have quite a bit, which is quite rare, leaking it now in fact." She dumped the onions into the pan.

"The hell? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Really?" she said coyly.

"Really." He was calmer now, his anger having canceled out some of his arousal. Though he still wanted to ravish her body.

"Well, it's a thing. Trust me." She turned the stove back to max and added the egg. A moment later she beckoned for Ichigo's rice. He passed it to her without a word—their fingers brushed and a spark of electricity shot up his bones. "Feel that?"

"Yeah." He flexed his fingers as his nerves calmed.

"Tell me more about it." He really wanted to know. This was amazing. She was amazing.

She dumped the rest of the vegetables into the pan, along with sauces and spice. "Maybe later. I'm hungry."

She was also infuriating. "Fine. Promise though?" He gave her a genuine look of need. He needed this power—The power to protect. He vowed to protect his remaining family from anything. "Promise?"

"I dunno… I don't usually make promises." She spooned a sample of the meal.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned close to her ear, close enough to kiss. Her vanilla scent assaulted his senses. "Promise to teach me and I promise to make you orgasm more than any other guy ever could." It was his best shot—his only offering to this incredible goddess that appeared on his doorstep. It was as if she was from another world, another dimension right out of his Hentai magazines. She was his dream come true. How the hell did old Goat-Chin know her? Ichigo needed to get to the bottom of this.

Seconds ticked away. The stir-fry sizzled. She was still frozen.

"Alright," she said. "You better." Her tone was light.

"Thank you." He couldn't thank her enough. Ever.

"Though I was going to anyway. You're too interesting to pass up." She patted his cheek.

"Tch," he huffed, then took a spoonful of their meal. It was pretty good.

"Like it?"

"Yeah."

Lisa turned off the fire and divided the meal into two plates. Without another glance at Ichigo, she strutted to the dinner table and set the meals and cutlery. "Then eat up!" she said without turning around.

"Right." As he approached, she undid her apron, propping up his hopes that she'd eat in the nude, but then pulled the sailor outfit over her head and stepped into her panties.

She didn't put the skirt back on though.

"Little slut," Ichigo whispered. "I'll fill you up and make you cum ten times tonight."

"Make that eleven."

He almost grabbed her right there. He joined her on the other side of the table and started eating, exchanging lust-filled looks every few mouthfuls.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Pls follow and review! All feedback welcome!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

While Ichigo cleared the table and washed the dishes, Lisa lounged in semi-connected the living room. Her braid dangled behind the back of the Sofa as she flicked through television channels at an astonishing rate. An urge to pull on that bundle of hair while fucking her to bliss rose within him. The moving picture played over and over in his mind, taunting him, showing him the goddess he'd be enjoying throughout this week and potentially after. Though he still hadn't seen her naked entirety, his Hentai infested brain filled in the gaps well enough. The real Lisa could only be better than anything in his fantasies.

The water in the sink overflowed. "Dammit." He cut off the tap and grabbed the mop. Lisa's soft giggle burned his ears. He could tell she was playing up the cuteness—somehow. That was fine. He'd get to know her much, much better soon enough. He wiped up the mess and some unrelated dirt, ignoring the half-naked girl to his left.

Ichigo squeezed dry the mop into the sink and set it to the side, then eyed the room. The Kitchen was more or less clean now. The connected dining room was decent, not spotless, but Ichigo wanted to join Lisa. He needed to join her. Oh, her miniskirt was still draped over the dining chair. "Hey, your skirt," he called into the living room.

She glanced back for a heartbeat. "Toss it into the washing basket."

So she'd be just in her panties and sailor top for the rest of the night. Fine by him—he'd ogle her some more if that's what she wanted. "I'll do that now." He almost tripped on the way to the washing machine in his rush, cursing his clumsiness despite so many years of fighting experience. He shook his head. Lisa was affecting him so much. Too much. He huffed, attempting to clear his head but instead noticed the skirt was laced with her scent. Vanilla, spice, and her unique musk. The fantasies returned full blown. Her riding him. Him pounding at her pussy. Her covered in his cum. It was all too much, all that had happened in just under two hours. He needed to release his lust. He unzipped his jeans.

"Don't even think about it," he heard Lisa call.

He flinched and pulled up his zip, spinning around. Lisa wasn't there. How the hell did she know from the living room? Could she hear his zip? "The hell are you talking about?!" He threw her skirt into the half-filled basket and stomped back to the living room. She was already looking at the doorway expectantly, that smirk aimed right at him. Her bare legs were crossed, unfortunately.

"You're saving it all for me tonight mister."

"Fine." He joined her on the couch. Their shoulders touched. Should he put his arm around her? After a moment he decided: Of course he should. He reached around her, a little too awkwardly, and hugged her slender frame. She didn't react and started browsing the channels again. It seemed like this countryside of hers had satellite television as well. She occasionally paused for a few seconds on a comedy or movie channel, but nothing appeared to catch her interest. "What are you looking for?"

"Mmmm," she mumbled, glancing at him. "Take a guess."

He blurted his first thought. "Anime channel?"

"Yes." Her tone was clipped.

"Goat-chin— My dad locked it and a bunch others behind a code. Said he didn't want my sisters watching some of the lewd stuff on there."

She stopped browsing. "Oh… And I doubt you know the code?"

"Nope. I don't." He fondled her upper arm. So soft but firm in a strange sort of way. She felt almost inhumane.

"Lame," she breathed and leaned into him. Her scent returned to his airways. He breathed it all in. Was she hinting for him to make an advance? "So what's the plan for the week?" She looked into his eyes. Those teal wells were mesmerising. Perhaps she was part European—She certainly looked to be.

He blinked, his mind blanking from the intimacy. "Uhh…"

She smiled—not just a smirk but a real, pure smile that he hadn't seen her show. He returned it out of instinct. This was too good to be real. "Do you have a job for your semester break?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No."

"Homework?"

"N—"

Shit. He had homework. Lots of it. So much that if he didn't start tonight or tomorrow morning he might not finish by the end of the week. He had to keep up his good student bad boy image. He didn't want to be known as another Keigo. And it wasn't all an act either. "Yeah I have homework."

"Not much?" She gave him a needy expression. Her eyes ballooned to a comical size. Ichigo resisted the urge to laugh.

He looked down, away from her cutesy act, down her top. She had nice tits. They were just there, in full view for his eyes to devour. She'd loosened the neck of her sailor outfit by a lot. He looked backed up to her eyes. She was still expecting an answer. His gaze flickered back down, magnetised by her breasts. They were so close. Right there. Right there. He was mere inches away from her perfection that he could grab her by flicking his wrist, suck on her, fuck her right here. The temptation was too much. He swallowed and took the risk, zeroing in on her chest with his free hand. "Tonnes. I'll have to start tonight or tomorrow morning," he said as he made contact. Her mounds were heavenly even with the fabric in the way, just as he'd imagined.

She didn't react as usual. What kind of girl was she? "Then you should start now. I don't want to get you into trouble." She sounded serious. "I am your babysitter after all. I have a job to do," she said smugly. "I'll watch over you. Make sure you get it done."

Her words flew over his head. He was getting really daring now. He nibbled her neck. So soft. This was where she'd applied her vanilla scent. She tasted sweet, sticky, like whatever she had spread on her skin contained honey or syrup. He ran his tongue across her smoothness and hugged her tighter. Her hot pulse quickened against Ichigo's tongue. "I can do it later." He groped her chest with more bravado, lightly pinching her nipple.

This time she responded, taking his hand, guiding him under her shirt. Yes, Yes, Yes. This is what he'd wanted for countless nights. He was so hard now that the pressure against his jeans ached.

Lisa's guiding hand stopped short just below her chest. "Ichigo."

"Lisa. Let's fuck."

"You should do your homework."

A spark of annoyance ignited in his belly. "Why?"

"It's important."

"Not as important as this." He kissed her neck forcefully, fighting against her strong hand—too strong for such a slender build. She didn't budge an inch. "How are you so strong? Is it the spirit—"

"Of course."

"Teach me after we—"

"After you do your homework." She laughed.

He growled into her skin. "We're going to fuck now… then you'll teach me spirit energy right after!"

She tapped his temple. "As your babysitter, I say you're going to to your homework mister. Be patient like a good boy."

That was the last straw. How dare she call him a boy. He'll show her exactly how much of a boy he is. He threw himself onto her, reaching to rip away her clothing.

The room spun—and before he registered what could have happened, he was on his back, pinned to the ground by a smirking Lisa. "Easy there tiger. Lessons will be for tomorrow. Your homework should be done now. Fucking comes later." Though she felt up his chest and moved down, stopping above his jeans.

He wanted her to go lower and not just trace his abs. He humped her in response, shoving his hips into her and grinding his crotch against hers. "You like that?"

She stared him down. He kept dry-humping her, upping the tempo and power every thrust till he sent visible shockwaves up her body. "Take that, slutty babysitter."

She moaned. "Not bad." She reciprocated the thrusts. A patch of dampness appeared on her panties. Success. Now was the chance. He moved to rip away her underwear and unzip himself.

She was gone in an instant.

He roared. "Come back! I'm not done with you! You'll be covered in my cum!" He could hear her laughing and running up the stairs.

"Not before you finish your homework!" Her laughter intensified.

He scrambled to his feet and chased. He hit a toe against the stairs but ignored the pain in his frenzy. He slammed open the door to his room.

"I knew it!" Lisa exclaimed, holding a booklet into the air. "You like Hentai too!" His box of magazines had been pulled out from under his bed.

His shock barely fazed him. "So what?! You're mine! I'll pound that pussy that you love to show off!" He lunged at her.

She dodged at the last moment. Impossible. He'd practised that tackle for years now. Even with that spirit energy voodoo, she shouldn't have been able to dodge at such a close distance.

Before he twisted around, she grappled him from behind and wrestled him onto his bed. He thrashed and tried a reversal, but she was so, so strong. Her arms and torso were soft granite, if such a thing was possible. That spiritual pressure thing forced him down again. The pressure was much stronger this time—he couldn't breathe right. She had him in an unbreakable pin, face down into his cum nest. Lisa's hot breath touched his ear. "We're going to be doing this my way."

He wheezed, "Like hell—"

"Or these magazines will be public knowledge at your school."

"Wha—"

"You'll be known as Ichigo the perv. I know you have some kind of tough guy reputation going on. It would be a shame if people found out about this." She waved his magazine in his face. 'Catgirls and the Tentacle Menace,' the title spelled out. It was one of his favourites. "How would you like it if they all knew that? That you have a boxful of Hentai as dirty as this one. That you attacked your babysitter and tried to rip off her clothes."

"What? You wouldn't dare. You're the one who—"

"Who what?" A dark smile spread across her lips. "Will they believe innocent old Lisa or bad boy Ichigo who beats up his foes?"

His eyes widened.

Her smile stretched to her ears.

Shit. Dumpster-truck shit. This was not good. Somehow he'd gotten himself into this situation where a superhuman cosplaying exhibitionist was blackmailing him into becoming some kind of erotic play-thing. A plot straight out of his magazines. Part of him was beyond shamed, another part turned on even more than before. And this was the real girl behind that cute act—all part of the package that was Lisa Yadomaru. He let his thrashing calm, a cold aura washing over his body. Was that her spirit energy?

"Alright?" She leaned down and looked at him, giving him that familiar smirk that meant so much more now. He'd jizz all over that smirk soon enough.

He nodded. His new-found, frenzied confidence crumbled.

"You'll do your homework then?"

He nodded.

"You'll do it while I read your Hentai?"

His eyes bulged. He nodded nevertheless.

"You'll promise not to lose control if I touch myself and make hot noises?"

A gnarled whine rumbled up his throat. He nodded.

"Good. It'll be all the better the longer you restrain yourself. Keep it in your pants. I'm going to let you up now. Okay?"

He swallowed, taking a tiny breath through his nose, and nodded a final time. "Okay."

The hundred pound pressure lifted, letting him breathe, but Lisa didn't let go of him. He pushed her to the side so he could face her and swallow mouthfuls of air. He was so tempted to lunge again. Oh so tempted. She licked her lips and made a whipping gesture and sound. "Tamed ya," she quipped.

He glared. "Tch." He wasn't an animal.

They relaxed without any words. The weight of her power took more of a toll that he thought. She placed her hand on his chest, the touch and warmth aiding his recovering by a surprising amount.

Several minutes passed, his breathing finally settled as she waited in silence. "I'll devour you when the time comes."

She palmed her hip. "Looking forward to it. And I must say, I am impressed, Ichigo. This babysitting thing didn't turn out to be a waste of time after all. You were a just a nervous innocent schoolboy just a couple of hours ago." She stroked his cheek, tracing his jawline.

Ichigo grabbed her hand, gently. "Firstly, I'm not a boy." He shot her one of his best scowls. "Secondly, I'm far from innocent." He reached behind and spanked her. She arched an eyebrow in response.

"You mean the Hentai?" She opened the magazine to the first page.

"Yeah… So what? You like it too as you said." He looked away, blushing. Neither did he want to talk about his mother—it would be too awkward. And again, there was no reason to be embarrassed, but he couldn't help it. His Hentai was always a private thing. It'd take a while to get used to another soul indulging in his innermost desired fantasies.

"Catgirls and the Tentacle Menace. Mmmm I loved this one."

He coughed in surprise.

"I like to imagine I'm one of these catgirls you see? It makes me wet just thinking about it." She climbed atop him and rubbed her blazing crotch against his bare hip. Her panties were slick. "Can you fee it? You can be the tentacle monster." Her musk overwhelmed the vanilla.

The restraints on Ichigo's cock reached unbearable levels of discomfort. He reached down and fingered the zip of his jeans. She stopped him. He grimaced. "Come on. It hurts. My tentacle wants you."

"You'll be fine." She winked, rocking back and forth on his hipbone. She rode him like he really was a tamed animal. "Oh yeah, that feels great." She humped, thrusted, bounced on his hip. Was this all really a wet dream?

"You amazing little slut. I could fuck you all day," Ichigo breathed, enthralled by her moans. Her mouth parted and a small frown of pleasure adorned her brow. He matched her rhythm and pushed up to her humps, and dared to pull at her panties.

Then she was gone. He didn't even see her move.

"Lisa?"

"I believe you have an essay to do," she said, standing by his beanbag chair, his box of Hentai at her feet.

He inwardly groaned. Not this crap. Anything but this. He was so close. So, so, so close. "I'll do one essay for language studies." Hopefully, that'll be enough for her.

She reached for one of his folded towels on a shelf nearby, spread it on the seat, and plopped herself down. He silently thanked her for protecting his prized chair from her sex juices. She sat with one foot near her groin, her thighs spread wide, and regarded him with a studying expression. "How many words?"

Her panties were virtually transparent from her wetness. Her pussy was red and puffy and delicious, lips tight and perfect. An imagine of it filled with his cum entered his mind. He blinked. "At least four thousand," he said. It was really two and a half thousand. A small lie wouldn't hurt—she did lie about the countryside after all.

"Hpmh, long enough." Lisa licked her lips and picked up the same magazine. "Get to it," she ordered, then arched her hips, and rolled her soaked panties down her legs. She gently stroked herself as she read. Ichigo could have sworn he just had nosebleed as his head ballooned with heat. The sight was hotter than anything he'd ever fantasised by a thousand times. "I said get to it…" she sang. She inserted her middle finger into her entrance. Hypnotised, he stepped towards her. A wave of force pushed him back, slapping him out of the trance.

"Dammit to hell!" Ichigo marched to his desk and dragged it into position for a front row seat for her performance. Lisa laughed four breaths.

Snatching a pen from his metal holster, he recalled the essay topic: Grammar differences between significant modern spoken languages. A somewhat interesting topic that he proved to be proficient in.

"Oh fuck yes," Lisa moaned, interrupting him. Her finger pumped in and out of her pussy. Ichigo hungrily ate up the display. He rubbed his cock through his jeans.

Back to the essay, he reminded himself. The quicker he wrote this, the sooner he'd be taking her against the wall. There were several positions he planned to try tonight. His pen touched down onto the lined paper.

"This could be you right now, Ichigo," Lisa said with ragged breaths. Two fingers now. Her juices coated her thighs with a sheen.

"I know," he mumbled. His body shook. If this spirit energy thing really exited then he'd be sure he was leaking it like a waterfall. Blinking, he shook his head and continued breathing heavily, breathing her scent. He started the introduction to his essay—a typical introduction lacking originality. That was fine. Eighty percent of his brain was focused on the masturbating girl three feet away.

On another piece of paper, he roughly outlined his paragraphs and overall ideas. Japanese, English, Chinese, Spanish, Korean, and more. All major. All would have a concise analysis and comparison. Good enough. A discussion on pros and cons of various grammatical structures. Good enough. Extra discussion on anything else he thought of along the way. Good enough. He started the first paragraph, writing as fast as his hand let him.

He peeked at Lisa. Three fingers. She fucked herself like mad as she flipped another page. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Right there." Her arm was roped around her leg. The view was insane. How long would it be till she orgasmed?

Dammit. He lost his train of thought.

He tuned her out with some jazz in his head—and the essay genuinely helped. Fairly interesting.

Japanese grammatical analysis—Done. His birth language, easiest of them all.

Lisa still hadn't climaxed from what he heard. It'd already been fifteen minutes. He didn't risk another glance.

Next came English, the foreign language he was most skilled with. He conversed with a native speaker once without too much trouble. Directions to a bus terminal and places of interest in Karakura. He was quite proud of himself. He put pen to paper.

"Why aren't you looking?" Lisa asked. Her breathing had evened out.

"Writing an essay," Ichigo said as he wrote, not looking up. "Did you cum?"

"Of course not." He heard a page flip. "I'm saving it for our first time tonight," she said sweetly.

"I'd like that."

"Yes. I know what virgin boys like."

He doubled over, his pen close to slipping and making a mess through his writing. "How did you kn—"

"It's obvious."

His already scorched face hid his blush well. "Tch." He continued writing, ignoring her masturbation noises again. Her wet pussy sounded incredible, music like the jazz he played.

He wrote and wrote at his highest speed of thought, even when his hand ached and burned, though it didn't burn at nearly the intensity of his waist and cheeks. He needed Lisa. Now.

When he ticked off half of his outline, something white dropped to the floor at the top of his eye. He peeked again.

Lisa took off her top.

She was butt naked. Full frontal, thighs open and welcoming, less than a meter from his face. He dropped his pen. A dot of ink dripped onto his essay. She was so close yet so far away—exactly twelve hundred words away.

"Gotcha!" she exclaimed.

He fought back a whine and a teardrop in his left eye. He soldiered on. Words, words, and more words came. He didn't care about the quality of his vocabulary anymore. The bare minimum to preserve his grade average would do! Lisa was waiting.

As the minutes flowed on, she continued to pleasure herself; he wrote like his future with Lisa depended on it. In a way it did. He was nearing two thousand words now. Success.

"Okay!" Lisa said.

Ichigo's eyes snapped at her. "Okay? I'm not finished yet. Three hundred words left."

"I'm at my limit." She folded her legs. "Any more and I'll be a squirting mess." The image hit Ichigo's mind like a bat.

"So does that mean we…" he trailed off, half standing from his seat.

"Nope." She stood and picked up a clean towel off his shelf. Her lustful juices and sweat rolled down her legs and chest. Her face shined. "I'm going to take a shower. You should too. It should give you enough time to finish before we have the main course." She smirked and sauntered past him.

His head tracked her like a turret. "Got a change of clothes?" he asked absentmindedly.

Lisa turned around for a moment to speak. "Silly. I'm not going to need one until morning. Throw my stuff in the wash." She headed for the bathroom.

Sucking in a breath, Ichigo braced himself. "Finally." It was almost time. He resumed writing as the bathroom lock clicked.

The shower turned on, churning up fantasies of a soapy Lisa. He'd do anything to fuck her in there right now. He'd kick down the door, scale the side of the house and bust the window… Or… Use the spare bathroom key. He grinned, finishing up his essay, and searched his memory for where that damn key was.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Ya, the narrative of these chaps does feel a bit rushed. I'll probably fix that in a future with a rewrite if I'm up for it.**

Pls **review and follow! Enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Steam billowed from the gaps in the bathroom doorway. Ichigo pressed his ear against the polished wood, which was thin enough to hear through. His heart bumped into his ribcage as he listened to Lisa's humming. She was a good hummer, humming a tune from an Anime most likely. He wiped his hand on his shirt and eyed the spare bathroom key with glee. He'd lucked out, finding it in the laundry room cupboard next to the detergent after dumping a load into the washing machine. This was it. She promised. She was all his—and he'd take her right here in the walk-in shower.

He inserted the key into the lock and turned as slowly as his unsteady hand let him. The click was quiet and drowned out by the water. He paused and listened. No reaction from her. Turning the handle, he pushed the door a quarter of an inch and peeped through the gap.

Holy hell. Just as he imagined. His cock twitched.

Lisa washed her free hair, eyes closed, facing the door. She stood off-center from the shower head, lathered up and ready for him to consume. Her face was peaceful as she hummed and worked on her mane. A drop of drool reached Ichigo's chin.

Taking a massive breath of air, Ichigo straightened his back and pushed. He stepped in, closing the door a second later. "I finished my essay. Laundry just started." He fixed a predatory grin on her soapy figure.

She flinched, blinking five times. "How did you get in?"

"A spirit key." He held up the key and placed it next to the sink.

"Of course," she quipped and resumed washing her hair. "Are you here to help me wash?"

"Oh yeah, I'll help you wash. And more." Ichigo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it into the basket, keeping his gaze on Lisa. She responded with a little smile. Guess that meant she liked what she saw. He took hold of his zip, hesitating, suddenly nervous of how she'd react to him. No girl had ever seen him naked before. How would Lisa react? His fingers fiddled with the zipper for a long while. This was different than before. He was on display, at a distance all for Lisa to judge and evaluate. What if he disappointed her?

Lisa chuckled. "You have five seconds to strip down before I blast you out of here, Ichigo."

Icy pricks stabbed into his neck, a needle of panic pierced his throat. He forced down his zip and heaved on his jeans along with his boxers. His cock sprang straight, pointing at Lisa. His clothing snagged on his feet. He kicked them off and ripped off his socks, not daring to meet Lisa's eyes. He was suddenly very naked in front of this goddess straight out of his magazines. He gulped and opened the glass door, then stepped in and breathed in soap and shampoo fragranced air. Suddenly, narrow and soft fingers wrapped around his cock.

"Come here," Lisa said. She guided him by his shaft to the showerhead, then stroked him very slowly.

A girl was touching his wee-wee! He looked at her face. That same smirk and smiling turquoise eyes welcomed him. He was instantly at ease. "You've been a very naughty babysitter," Ichigo said into her ear, "It's time to face the consequences." He grabbed her soapy ass and pushed her body closer to his.

"Hmmm," Lisa said, still stroking. "I'm not sure you can deliver… Though you're pretty big…" she grinned and lathered some liquid soap on his chest. "You're not big enough. I doubt you could make me cum."

He saw red. Out of embarrassment, out of rage, he growled and seized her scrawny arm and stopped her strokes. "Big enough to rip through that tight cunt!" He ran his hand from her ass to her chest. He rammed her against the tiled wall then lifted her by the hips and torso. He pushed his sex against hers, threatening to skewer her right there. "Say that again," he whispered and ran his thumb across her jaw. "Say that again and I won't be gentle."

"That's more like it," she said and dipped herself back to the floor so that his shaft glided against her vulva. He exhaled against her skin, the sensation better than anything his right hand ever provided. "But you'll be helping me wash first. You're also pretty dirty yourself." She drove him back with a buffer of spiritual pressure and caught his arm before he slipped.

"What?!" he bellowed, the warm water raining onto his face. "I've waited long enough you little slut!"

"You can clearly wait longer." She grabbed the shampoo. "My hair first."

"It's clean." He embraced her again.

"Nope." Slapping his cock away, Lisa ran her shampooed hand through her hair. How dare she treat his little-Ichigo like that!

An idea sprang. This will teach her. He lowered his stance a few inches, shifting his center of mass down, then hooked his arm under her leg. He smirked her trademarked smirk. "When I learn how to use my spirit energy, we'll be having so sex much that you'll be unable to walk." He flexed his bicep and hauled her leg straight against his chest, hugging it tightly while she leaned on the wall for support. Her pussy was more vulnerable to him than ever before. The position was right out of his wet dreams. "You're not getting away this time."

Somehow Lisa was able to ignore him and let his manoeuvrer take place while she scrubbed her locks. Her ambivalence fueled his lust-filled anger. "You won't be ignoring me once this is inside you." He grinned darkly, taking hold of his cock and aiming at her cherry. He grunted and forced his frame forward with his cock leading the thrust. Bulls-eye.

It didn't feel nearly as nice as he thought.

"Hmph, you missed," Lisa said. Her hair was white with foam.

Ichigo looked down. His cock was pressed straight against her lower belly. Impossible. "The fuck?"

"Try again." She took the shower head and rinsed her pussy. "It might have slipped from the soap. Or maybe you're just too small."

His world tilted a bit, a hot drum beating in his skull. "Ah! Take this!" He grabbed his shaft and aimed again, and shoved forward with twice the strength this time. She'd be sore for days!

He missed again!

"Having fun down there?" she mocked as she worked on the ends of her hair.

It clicked. It must be her spirit energy—doing something weird to her pussy. Perhaps some sort of barrier or diversion spell. Was spirit energy magic? "why are you doing this? Let me fuck you like you promised!" He shook her shoulder and tried penetrating her over and over. All missed. He panted from the frustration, a tight knot building in his belly.

She pouted. The expression surprisingly suited her features. "Because you were such a nervous wimp when you came in. It turned me off. This is your punishment."

He kept trying to fuck her, eventually settling for the skin above her pussy. "Won't happen again," he grunted and humped and smothered his balls against her pubis mons with each hump. He palmed her breast, fingering her perky pink tit. Soft, warm, fleshy, and just right when lubricated with the shower water and soap. This was so much better than jerking off.

"Are you suuure?" She let her hair drop, then twisted the showerhead to rinse.

Ichigo picked up his pace, breathing once every thrust. "Positive."

She poked his chest. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Tracing a circle on his abs, she offered him a dirty, heavy-eyed look he'd only seen in Hentai. "Alright then. I'll let down my spiritual pressure in three…"

He froze. This was it.

"Two and a half…"

His penis twitched. He swore it just grew another half inch.

"Two…"

Ichigo backed up and positioned his tip at her entrance. He readied to thumb her clit as well.

"One."

He shot his entire being at her with everything he had and pierced her all the way.

So warm, so wet, so tight and velvety. Her inner walls spasmed twice, clamping tighter in a vice grip on his member. This was heaven. He should have been here hours ago when Lisa showed up on his doorstep. He'd tackle her right then if he could go back in time. Her heat spread up his tip into his belly and up his chest. He breathed deep, the shower diluting her musk and unique scent but still there.

"Look at me," she said between short, shallow breaths.

His gaze was reluctant to leave their connected sexes. Her teal orbs were dilated to the brim, her lips parted an inch. Ruby-rose bloomed throughout her complexion, the nonchalant act vanished. He'd broken through. "So tight," he breathed, wriggling his cock in her cavern. No way a girl as horny as her could be so tight—she was inhuman.

Lisa grinned and her pussy clenched and heated even more. A sigh of pleasure escaped Ichigo's throat. He definitely should have jumped her at the door.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, that smirk inching itself back.

"I should have fucked this tight cunt at the front door." He pulled out halfway. "Or at least when you sat on my bed and spread your legs for me," he added just to be safe, then slammed back into her. She shuddered from the wet impact.

"Definitely the latter. I would have pancaked you at the door." Lisa pulled her leg away from his shoulder and wrapped it around his back. The sensation of her wet skin was like none other. This single moment was better than the last entire year combined.

"Fuck me, Strawberry."

"You'll regret calling me that, slut!" Ichigo slammed into her once more, then again, and again. His pulse thumped up this head and blurred his vision. Her little clit, he remembered. He thumbed her button gently, making figure eight patterns. So delicate, so warm.

"Yeah. Yeah. Just like that," Lisa moaned. Her back arched.

"I'm just starting," he whispered and let his head fall back into the running water as he increased his tempo. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. A thrust and figure-eight for every heartbeart that echoed throughout his body and into his engorging cock. Her leg's grip tightened around him, her nails dug into his shoulder. "I'm just starting." He swallowed steam with every breath, gathering his energy.

"Faster," she commanded, a deep need in her voice. "Faster, Strawberry."

He slapped her butt and fucked her once a second. "Don't call me that!"

She squeaked a sigh. "Yes! Strawberry!"

"Little slut…" he growled darkly and pulled at her hair and pulled at a nipple. "It's number one protector!" He pounded her with all his strength, feeling that her entrance would rip any moment without adjusting to his size. The thought only made him fuck her faster.

"Strawberry!" she shrieked, lost in the ecstasy of the sex.

Pulling her away from the wall, he bit her lower lip. "You asked for it." Her eyes bulged to the size of grapefruits. He hooked up her other leg with his free arm as she clung to his neck for support. His speed doubled, bouncing her frame and jackhammering up her vagina twice a second.

"Straw—" she garbled something incoherent as he pounded away.

"That's right. Don't say it again," Ichigo whispered into her ear, then nibbled her lobe.

"Str—"

Something began to take over her body. She convulsed and shook, her eyes rolling back and her nails pulling at his skin. Her pussy spasmed continuously. "Fuck! That feels amazing!" he roared and fucked her with all he had. "Holy fuck!" The scorching heat from her vagina spread through his muscles and set him on fiery pleasure. She was a bitch on heat, pushing him to his absolute limit. "Don't stop that! I'm going to cum!"

"Inside! Inside!" Abruptly, the white of her eyes turned pitch black for a second as the spasms of her pussy reached an unbearable tempo. Spiritual pressure burst forth, crushing his torso against Lisa's breasts. The shower water and steam swirled around them in a vortex. Her chest thumped against him twice.

Ichigo orgasmed as she did, blasting copious amount of his seed into her. He rode out their climax and kept filling Lisa with his white bliss. He fucked her till the pleasure faded before letting her down.

Lisa panted, her head lopping to the side as she slumped to the ground against the wall. She reached up and lowered the water flow. "That was incredible," she breathed and stroked herself, eager to show off her freshly drilled cunt. Silky white cum leaked out of her hole. She brought her fingers to her mouth. Her tongue licked up his seed.

That single action sparked another circuit of lust in Ichigo. His slack member hardened, but not enough. He was spent for now. Muscles sluggish and worn from her spiritual outburst, he fell next to her on his behind, the water cushioning his fall. "Lisa," he said.

"Yes, my dirty Strawberry?" Her voice was husky.

He let that one go, grudgingly. "Don't ever leave me. Promise?"

Many heartbeats passed before she spoke. "Promise."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Pls review and follow!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Ichigo's jizz pooled into a sticky mess as it emptied from Lisa's pussy and mixed with warm water. He stared in awe at the lightly panting girl sitting next to him, still euphoric from her orgasmic high. She smiled that pure smile that he needed to see more of. He hadn't seen such a smile in years.

"One down," Lisa said, then nudged his shoulder with a finger. "Ten more."

Ten more. Did he hear that right?

"I want to be covered in your cream before sunrise." She patted his knee three times and rested her palm on his thigh, right next to his spent cock. Her smooth fingers teased the sensitive skin next to his jewels, exposed to her, exposed to this girl whom he knew so little about.

Ichigo gulped, and reached for the soap bottle, searching for a distraction. Ten more, the phantom words echoed in his ears. How could he do that ten more times tonight? The thought of going just once more seemed difficult—more difficult than ten hours of sparring at the dojo.

Scooping up water, Ichigo dispensed himself a glob of soap. He scrubbed his upper body before thinking of responding—if he could respond.

Ten more. The syllables reverberated in his skull till his head rang.

"Ichigo," Lisa said, taking his clawed hand. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah." He continued scrubbing with his other hand before glancing at her naked body. She was truly something fallen from heaven if there was one, but his erection wouldn't return. He'd ejaculated so much of himself into her, more than he ever had whilst alone. Maybe he'd run out for a long while. A cold tightness gripped his belly.

Ichigo changed the subject before he panicked. A granule of his cum still smeared on her lower-lips took him down a line of logic. "Are you at risk of becoming pregnant?" He creaked his neck and met her teal eyes. They were partially dilated.

"No," she mumbled, "I have a Kido for that."

"Kido?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "It's like magic spells similar to those in Anime that uses your spirit energy."

This was just his conversation. He mentally backflipped at the lucky turn of events. "Tell me about them. Show me. I need a bit to recover."

Her eyes shifted to his limp penis for a second. "There's different types, branches, that serve different purposes. Offensive and defensive are the main ones, most studied." She pointed at the silver drain. "Even low-level Kido could turn this room to rubble with enough spirit energy, including the defensive spells. This is one of the easiest and weakest. I'll try my best to not damage anything. Hado one! Sho!"

For a too-long moment, nothing happened. Ichigo was about to speak before a jet of wind cut through falling droplets and blasted the drain, splashing the shower space. He shook his head. "That's incredible. How did you do that?"

She gave him a neutral look. "I summoned my spirit energy and concentrated it at the tip of my finger, then visualised a jet of wind and shaped my energy as I incanted. The higher level spells are extremely complex."

He did as instructed, pointing at the drain. He was slightly drained from the sex, but this was just a small gust of air. He'd have enough energy for that, right? "How do I summon my spirit energy?"

Lisa's expression turned cold. "There's two ways."

"Yeah?" Ichigo prepared for the worst. He'd do anything for this power to protect his friends and family. His sisters. His dad. Tautski and Chad. His sensei and more.

And Lisa.

Lisa was just as important, if not more, as the others now, despite only knowing her for less than a handful of hours—despite their interactions being filled with sexual perversion. Ichigo didn't know what that meant. How did this incredible girl enthrall him so? Did his teenage hormones make him so shallow?

She finally spoke, "The first is through a special intense meditation till you resonate with the hum of your inner well of spirit energy." Her eyes lost all warmth. "The second is an instinctual outburst under a stressful life-threatening situation."

"Well damn," Ichigo said, trying to keep his voice confident. "I suck at meditation." Inside, he was sinking down a dark hole, a horrid memory pulling him under.

Dark, wet, a lamp on an empty street. A young child about to fall into the river. He panicked; he ran for her. He lost consciousness. And then a warm body was on laying on top of him, not breathing, not moving.

He could have saved her. His mom. Why didn't his spirit energy activate when he saw the child? Did he fail? Did he fail his mother? The rain of that night fell before him under the showerhead. The water was suddenly cold. He didn't breathe. The blood of his mother seeped into his nostrils. He could have saved her.

A sharp sting cracked across his cheek. "Ichigo."

He blinked, the water warm again. "Sorry. Had a short flashback."

"I could tell. You look like tentacles just butt raped you." Her tone was light but serious. He liked that.

"It's nothing." He reached for another blob of liquid soap and turned up the shower flow. He scrubbed hard—scrubbed at his own failure of a body. Why didn't his spirit energy come to him?

Lisa shook his shoulder. "Tentacle rape is serious."

"It's not that." What was the hell wrong with her?

Lisa slid close to him, her arm tight against his. "Look. The first time might hurt and feel weird and bleed but after a few times, you get used to it. After a while, it starts to feel kinda good and soon enough you'll be begging for—"

"Cut that out!" he barked. "I wasn't butt raped!"

She pouted. "You sure?"

"Yes!" he yelled but settled back against the tiled wall a second later. Her antics worked. She'd pulled him up from his ditch in an instant. Her teal orbs shone a blazing light down into his hollowed-out heart.

"Do you need me to use healing Kido on your behind?" she asked, smirking.

Ichigo dared to chuckle. It sounded fake. "No!"

"Good," she said, then began scrubbing his legs, starting at his calfs.

Ichigo let her wash him. The gesture meant something real to him that he couldn't quite tell—something he needed too much. "It's in the past. I'll be fine." He worked on his armpits, moving towards his ribs.

"If you say so." Lisa grabbed the soap bottle and slapped a handful onto his thighs. The temperature drop tickled.

"I'm fine," he mumbled and continued his relentless assault on his skin. His arms were streaked red and throbbing. He still felt no spirit energy whatsoever. Maybe she was wrong about him. "Do you still feel spirit energy from me?"

Scrubbing his thighs and legs, Lisa eyed him for two heartbeats. "You were a blazing beacon before. Not so much now though." She ran her hand up his thighs and engulfed his manhood, lathering up his cock and balls. His shaft was washed with slow, slippery strokes. His balls were caressed with loving, gentle fingers. Lisa was touching his most special place in the most special way.

"When we had sex and climaxed?" He let her so-obviously try to stimulate him. Of course, it was working—his body was in top shape and responded dutifully even if his mind was elsewhere.

"Yeah," she said seductively. "For a second your spirit energy was over half of mine."

"Is that a lot?"

"Oh, it is. Believe me." Lisa full-on masturbated him now; he was erect but just not in the mood.

"Why don't I feel anything?" He needed the answer—more than he needed her pussy at the moment. His lust simmered nevertheless.

She shrugged. "Why aren't you fucking me right now with this massive cock of yours?"

A scowl tugged at Ichigo's brow. "Why are you trying to seduce me when I need to know more about my spirit energy?"

"That's simple." Lisa licked the tip of his cock. The sensation sucked the breath out of his lungs. "You made a promise, remember? Ten more."

Damn.

Ichigo huffed. Lisa was right—promises were made. "Yeah, I remember."

"Then fuck me." She licked again, really sparking his lust this time.

He breathed, stalling his encroaching lust. "Teach me this meditation tomorrow."

"You need a special sword…" A look flashed across her face that Ichigo couldn't read. "And I'm not sure it would work for you… Your spirit energy doesn't feel like the right type for it. I haven't felt energy like yours before." Another lie.

"Try anyway. Get me that sword."

Lisa hesitated, her hands turning to stone around his private parts. "You really want this?"

"You promised."

She sighed and frowned. Those beautiful eyes dropped for a moment. "Alright then." Her hands began to move again, although more rigidly than before. His cock had wilted somewhat as well. "It's called an Asauchi. Once you tap into your Spirit Energy and feed enough of it and more into the blade, it'll be your Soul Cutter, forever bound to you. Remember that."

"Thank you. I'll remember." Ichigo's heart was much more at ease, this new information offering him so much.

Lisa visibly swallowed. "And it's made of spirit particles. Only those with high spirit energy will be able to see and touch it. Same as with spirits of the deceased, as you should know."

What the hell? So this was why he was always able to see ghosts—and she was able to as well, apparently. This was turning out to be the most important and greatest night of his life. He mirrored her swallow. "I see," he whispered, the words dead and cold. Cold as the water that was falling on him. His erection faded.

As Lisa's fondling slowed, her eyes rolled. "Let's finish up here. We'll continue in your room on your dirty cum bed." She stood and switched off the showerhead, her naked form towering over him, all for his eyes to devour. Ichigo was one lucky guy.

XXX

A/N

A shorter chapter—subject to a rewrite in the future! Pls follow and review!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The washing machine had beeped its merry tune when Ichigo was still drying himself. He had left Lisa to wander off to his room with a parting smile before sauntering downstairs to the laundry room. Ichigo took his time, still recovering his sexual stamina. His first time with Lisa—his first time ever—replayed in his mind's eye. Incredible. Unbelievable, even. He wasn't a frustrated virgin anymore. He fucked a goddess hotter than all the females at his school. But this could all have been a dream—he could still be asleep, or unconscious in a coma from a car accident. Goat-Chin drove the car like crazy after all. He grumbled, and continued on his way, his bare feet tingling against the rough carpet.

The last specs of sunlight had vanished, the moon shining its silver rays into the hallway. It called to Ichigo, luring the depths of his heart. An invisible thread from the crescent pulled at his chest and stirred his innards. He sucked in a cold breath. Was this spirit energy?

Ichigo pointed at the dusty windowsill and imagined a gust of wind, concentrating on the twirling eddies in his chest. "Hado one! Sho!"

Nothing.

He was still a failure. He could have saved her—but didn't. It was all his fault. Utter failure.

A grimace contorted his brow. He grunted and strode too-quickly to the laundry, stepping on a tiny stone. It dug into his heel, sending a stinging shock up his leg. So clumsy. Cursing, he hurried and transferred the washing machine contents into the dryer, then set it to spin for an hour and half. He watched the clothes tumble for a minute. Lisa's panties and sailor top were pressed against the glass. She was in his room right now, naked and beautiful, probably reading his Hentai and finger-fucking herself again. Somehow she was hornier than he—a precious girl whom he'd need to protect and cherish and never let down. He'd never forgive himself, never live again, if he failed Lisa. Was this the universe's way of giving him another chance after failing his mother?

A misty sigh wafted up Ichigo's throat, his naked skin starting to develop goosebumps. He'd need to get back to Lisa—soon. She was waiting.

By the time Ichigo reached his room, his body shook from the cold. He'd never walked the house naked at night before. He opened the door. "Hey," he said, his voice husky.

"Certainly took your time." Lisa lay entangled in his bed sheets, a magazine in her hand. Her other arm disappeared beneath the fabric, moving in a rhythmic pattern—just as Ichigo thought. His gloomy heart warmed in a single thump. He smirked her smirk.

"Thought I felt some spirit energy in my chest. Tried your Kido spell." He approached his bed, unsure of how to join her. It was only a single with just enough space for him.

"Any success?" Lisa flipped a page. It was a schoolgirl humiliation Hentai, arguably the most perverted one out of the lot. Ichigo's ears burned. How did that she find that? He swore he it within the cover-pocket of a larger magazine.

She eyed him for a moment as he tried to reign in his embarrassment. "Did you manage to fire the Hado?"

"No. Didn't get anything."

"Hmph. Didn't think so. You need to be in tune with your spirit energy first," Lisa said without looking up.

Ichigo's head fell, a weight settling on his shoulders. What if he'd never got this spirit energy thing right? "How long will it take to get an Asauchi?"

"Not long."

"How long?"

Her eyes lazed up to him. "There's a shopkeeper in Karakura who sells spiritual items. He should have one ."

More good news. His back shot straight, steel hardening in his eyes. "Let's get it tomorrow." He wanted an Asauchi, needed it, more than anything right now, including Lisa's perfect wet body that was under his dirty beddings. Though she wasn't far behind—catching up at an astonishing rate at the moment. His sexual need for her simmered close to a boil.

"We'll see if he's got one in," Lisa said and pulled her blanket to the side. "Now come here." She patted the bed next to her hip. Her pussy gleamed with her fluids, staining his bed. Gods, she leaked so much when turned on. Ichigo's pulse pumped down his body, wakening his cock slightly.

"Sounds good," he breathed, sitting at the edge of his edge. "First thing after breakfast." The bed was far too small for both their bodies. He couldn't imagine how they'd read together laying down. "How are we going to share this bed tonight? Do you need a futon? Or one of my sister's beds?"

A twinkle danced at the edge of Lisa's teal iris. "We'll read like this." Her damp fingers gripped his bicep and hauled him down.

Her strength was uncanny—such a slender build shouldn't grant her such strength. Perhaps it was her spirit energy, somehow someway enhancing the physical limit of her muscles. But such a thing wasn't possible, if his highschool science was held ground in the spiritual world. "Your spirit energy makes you strong, right?"

"Yes. It can be used to enhance speed and strength considerably. Never judge an opponent with spirit energy by appearance alone." Lisa shimmied to sit and propped Ichigo's pillow and a single duvet against the headboard. She guided him to a sitting position, then took her place between his legs, leaned against his chest, and wrapped his legs around her. His penis was pressed straight against her back. She draped the blanket over their entwined bodies. Not bad—real comfy. Her warmth spread through his body like a wild fire as he rubbed his balls against her silky skin.

"As for sleeping… You'll see." She picked up his magazine. "This one is just like one of my hottest desires. I've masturbated to it since I was young." How I was naked on my first day of senior year, a humiliation Hentai, the title read. She flipped to the first page.

His right hand glided to her breast; his left to her beaver. It was second nature now. "You're really a slutty exhibitionist, aren't you?" He stroked her lower-lips, her wetness coating his fingers in seconds.

"Totally. A a bunch of other fetishes too." Her hand twined with his, inserting Ichigo's index and middle finger into her velvety entrance. His boner intensified. This was truly what he needed after so many pained, lonely nights.

"Tell me about them," he said.

"You'll find out eventually."

A huff blasted through Ichigo's nostrils. Everything was a game to her. "Then tell me how you became an exhibitionist."

Lisa tapped the magazine, her seductive smirk hinted at the edge of her face. "Just like this."

He coughed. "Naked? In high school?"

"Yeah."

"Holy hell." Insane—absolute insanity. Not even Chizuru would endure something like that and come out alright. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." She flipped a page. He hadn't started reading—though he already knew the plot by memory.

"Tell me about it." He need to know. This was the hottest thing ever. His fingers pumped into her pussy faster.

Twisting around, she offered Ichigo a sly smile. Her loose hair smelt of shampoo. "It's a secret. Maybe I'll tell… or show you sometime."

Ichigo's eyebrow arched. "Show?"

"At your school."

Holy fuck. Ichigo didn't know whether to be turned on, worried, or enraged that she'd embarrass him like that at his own school! She was pushing it—pushing the perversion of their blossoming relationship past his red line. "Don't you dare." Ichigo held his best glare and fingered her harder, remembering to thumb her little clitoris. That part was apparently extremely sensitive.

Lisa's smirk widened. "We'll see…"

"I'm serious," he said in a lower tone. This was bad. "Don't try it."

"Worried about your bad boy reputation?" Her finger ran up his chest, circling a spot over his heart.

"That and we could get into serious trouble!" White spots blotched in Ichigo's vision. He finger fucked her vigorously. She just wouldn't be tamed.

"Oh yeah…" Lisa said and fondled her breast. She fingered her nipple till it engorged. An urge to suckle and pinch her bud rose in Ichigo. "Definitely into a lot of trouble. I bet we could get away with it though," she said.

A dark growl rippled up his throat. He needed to teach a good, hard lesson and prevent a potential disaster at Karakura High. Someone as deviant as her was all but immune to just his fingers. "Like hell we will!" Ichigo slapped her hand away, grabbing her breast and twisting her nipple. She gasped. "Keep it in our room dammit!" Our room—not his. So much had changed tonight.

Lisa licked her lips. "Just imagine your friends walking in on us fucking in an empty classroom."

Ichigo's cock twitched, defying him. The thought undoubtedly appealed to him—her perversion was rubbing off onto him. "Won't happen!"

"I wonder what will happen if the boys found me naked in their changing room," she quipped, her features swimming with glee. "I'd have to satisfy all of them before they let me go!"

A deep, primal part of Ichigo snapped, tearing in a flash of fury and fire so hot that face hurt at the creases. He roared at Lisa and clamped his hands around her thigh and arm. Her expression flowered into anticipation, her eyes dilating to pitch black. "You're mine, whore!" He flipped Lisa over and pushed her onto hands and knees in a single, trained motion. "You're mine now! No one else's! Got that?!"

She looked back at him, her twinkling eyes mocking him. "Am I? It doesn't feel like it. Maybe there's a more dominant guy at your—"

"Fuck you!" Ichigo snapped and spanked her, hard. "You're mine!" He spanked her again, harder, readying his cock to penetrate at any second. A twinge of worry dared to eat at his chest and push back against his frenzy. What if he really wasn't good enough for her? He was just Ichigo, a nobody, a highschool student no different than the rest. He couldn't even get this spirit energy thing right even though his body apparently spewed it during sex. What if she wanted more—much more. He shook his head and leaned down. "You promised," he said to her with all his need. "Never leave me!" And he entered her pussy, the warm flesh sheathing his cock like it should have been years ago.

"Then make me yours, Strawberry," she said, an invisible connection forming between their eyes.

Ichigo swore it was spirit energy, but couldn't tell what it was. He was too busy pounding her cunt from behind anyway. And he let that name slide, expecting he'd be hearing a lot more of it from this week onward with Lisa in his life—she better stay. Ichigo couldn't imagine his life without her. Now that he'd tasted her sweetness the thought of a life without her pain him to the bone. She was truly something special—something incredible right out of heaven. "You. Are. Mine," he grunted as he fucked and spanked her red ass. He pulled at a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back every time his scrotum swung up against her crotch. He leaned down to her ear. "Understand?" he whispered.

"Yes, my Strawberry," she panted, "I'm yours as long as you fill me up whenever I want it."

Not good enough.

Growling, Ichigo smacked her ass hard enough that her frame tremble. "You. Are. Mine. Forever." He roughly grabbed her tit and squeezed. His nails dug into her thigh as he brutalised her cunt with every quaking thrust, stretching her more and more but she still remained so damn tight. Her pussy was juicy, tight magic, taking more than half the length of his cock. "No conditions!"

Lisa cried out a high-pitched moan as he ramped up his assault. But her needy wanton pussy wasn't near satisfied. "At this rate, I might need two guys at the same time."

"You bitch!" Ichigo shouted into her ear. He seized her arms and forced them behind her back, holding her up by the wrists with a single hand. With his other he ravaged her clitoris, stroking with the tips of his fingers in a chainsaw pattern.

A rasp mewled out of Lisa's gaping mouth every time his hips met her firm but soft buttocks. Her heard abruptly angled downward. "What's wrong? Are you not enough of a man to put your whole cock in me? I know at least ten other guys who—"

"Shut it!" Ichigo had enough of her charade. She'd have to use healing Kido on her pussy after this. After pulling back to gather strength, Ichigo rammed his entire length up her vagina, meeting tight resistance along the way. He ignored it, shoving all the way in at top speed till the base of his cock touched her skin, the narrowness of her blazing tunnel clamping his penis in a tight bliss. Wetness pooled around his sensitive tip—a light wheeze escaped Lisa's lips.

"Don't stop. Fuck me like a tentacle monster!" she shouted, her voice breaking at the last word.

"As you wish, Lisa, my horny slut," he obliged, pulling all the way out. Her musky juices dripped from his cock and splurged onto the sheets, only further igniting his need for the girl known as Lisa. A heartbeat later, he crashed into her, filling her to the same tight feel in an instant. He exhaled onto her neck. "Say it." He pulled out and crashed into her again. Drops of her juice splashed onto Ichigo's bed and wall, mixing with his cum stains. The sight drove him over the edge. He hammered her how he'd fantasised he'd fuck his Hentai characters.

"Say what?"

"You're mine! Just as you promised me." Ichigo pulled at her arms, abusing her hole so much that a tiny sliver of blood smeared onto his shaft. Shit. Should he be more gentle?

"Maybe if you fuck me harder!" she spat.

Didn't seem like she felt it. He upped his tempo, sweating profusely now from the effort needed, hammering both at Lisa's clit and vagina. Her velvet walls tightened for a half second every time she moaned. Hot, wet, velvety smooth. Little-Ichigo was in pussy paradise. This was the best night of his whole youth. "You're mine," he whispered, "the number one protector will be with you. Always."

"More like a Strawberry!"

"Number. One. Protector!" He fucked her as fast as he did in the shower when they climaxed. He was nearing his limit despite being half-drained of his cream reserves. Time began to slow as pleasure-ridden pressure built up in his groin.

"Harder!" she yelled."

Ichigo couldn't keep up. Lisa was something else entirely. "Fuck! I'm going to—"

"Seido ten!" Lisa shouted.

A pink aura erupted from her torso, bursting into a large miasma that filled half the room before collapsing into Ichigo and Lisa, then seeped into their skin. His midsection heated and glowed for a long while before settling.

Ichigo blinked thrice—he wasn't on the verge of orgasm anymore.

Letting go of her hands, he patted down his body and checked himself for injury. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for how hard he was down there and how his lust for Lisa felt different. Longer, visceral, more textured than before—but less wild and less of a blaze that needed to be quenched before it devoured him. He liked this new feeling, not more or less. Just different. He looked to Lisa.

Fuck, she was divine. He really could make her climax ten more times—he really believed.

"What just happened?" he said, flexing his arm.

"Sex Kido, a special type of healing Kido. Highly forbidden," Lisa said and began to hump Ichigo again, facing him this time. Her leg wrapped around his back just like in the shower. "So don't tell anyone we're using them! Start fucking, Strawberry. Start over!" Her thrusts were slow, more sensual and weighted.

Ichigo ignored the command and instead acted on an instinct that called from an ancient part of his mind. Kissing her shoulder and gliding his hand to her chest, he breathed for a moment and pushed his warmth into her. Lisa's heart thumped a steady rhythm against his hand—fast and laced with a hurricane of heat. Spirit energy. Deep and near-endless as he reached into her well, revealing that part of her needed him as much as he needed her for a multitude of reasons that he couldn't discern. "I felt your spirit energy."

"Good." She patted his cheek. "Back to it."

"Your energy told me you really want to be with me. Not just for sex." The words were all true. All true. For whatever reason, this incredible girl wanted to be with Ichigo Kurosaki. "You're really mine."

Her laughter burst into the air, enticing him further. The light ring of her musical voice was unlike any girl he'd heard at school. "Yes, Strawberry, I'm yours unconditionally till the end of time, happy?" she said as she began to take over, fucking him much more than he was fucking her. A perfect partner.

"Promise?" he asked and joined in again. Their moves were slow and heavy, perfect.

Ichigo knew she was being coy, or at the most half-serious, hiding something she wasn't ready to reveal just yet. It didn't matter to him because at least she even considered the idea that she'd be his forever—his real-life superhuman Hentai character. It'd be any hormonal guy's dream, he knew of course, and this was a major stepping stone in their relationship. An important stone to the next stage that he'd need to figure out before the end of the week. What did Lisa Yadomaru want from him? Her heart was pure—her interest in him was genuine, but also driven by another motive. A motive so great that it dominated her being above all else. Who was Lisa Yadomaru?

She glanced back at him, her features serene and beautiful under the moonlight. Finally, she said after locking fingers with him over her heart, "Promise." A real promise from her soul.

Ichigo smiled and fucked her into the night.

XXX

A/N

Enjoy, review, and follow! And yes, I made up the sex Kido. It's going to be used throughout the story.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

As Ichigo's breaths steadied against Lisa's cheek and he drifted asleep, she sighed and reached for her backpack laying next to one of the bed legs. Ichigo's naked arms and legs were wrapped around her in a tight, immobile embrace, his heart thumping against hers. Fortunately, the bed was low and her arm was of decent length. She wasn't as tall as Ichigo—who was freakishly tall for his age—but she was taller than the average female Soul Reaper by at least a couple of inches. And she still had a century of minor growth left, if her gauge on her current level of spirit energy was an accurate indication. Slightly less than the weakest captains without her Hollow mask. Enough to stay young and attractive for two or three more centuries. Lisa was only physically in her early twenties or late teens, or however old her situation needed her to pretend to be.

Though perhaps Bankai training would be a wise route, Lisa ruminated as she picked out her Soul Candy from a hidden pouch, rolling the polished, cold ball in between her fingers. Such a power-up would do wonders for her youth and vigour. A ten fold growth at the utterance of a few words and she'd reach her true potential. But Lisa's Zanpakuto spirit, Haguro Tonbo, hadn't been the most cooperative for many decades, to say the least. Ever since her Hollowfication, their bond had been weakened to the point of near-shatter. Her dragonfly-like female half-Hollow was aggressive, maniacal, deranged even—especially when Lisa demanded to learn more of her Hollow powers. Worst of all was Lisa's growing lust that'd ballooned to levels far beyond that of her academy and Rukongai days. All thanks to her Hollowfication. All thanks to that bastard Aizen. Her stomach flipped at the line of thought.

"Fuck you, Sosuke," she whispered and plopped the candy into her mouth. "Not literally." She tossed her head back and swallowed.

The sensation of being forced out of a Gigai was like none other. The world pulsated for a second before a unique lightness washed over Lisa as she hopped onto the carpet. Strangely, her soul was still dressed in her Sailor outfit, unlike her naked Gigai. A few heartbeats later, Lisa's vast spirit energy returned to the surface of her soul, far greater than what her enhanced gigai allowed for. She shoved her tainted power back into her depths before she flattened Ichigo with her pressure—she'd greatly regret that. Lisa was growing rather fond of her overly-attached Strawberry. Head tilting, she looked at his peaceful face. He was handsome and sleekly toned, more than most guys she'd been with. But he was broken… in some way. What happened to this half-human? All Kisuke had said was Isshin Shiba—another recent exile—needed Lisa to look after his son for a week and help reign in his growing spiritual power. He didn't mention anything like this. A horny and broken teen who gushed spirit energy like a released Zanpakuto, more than any human in existence was capable of, more than any noble child she'd ever met. Too perplexing.

"Do you need me to keep him warm, pyon?"

Lisa flinched at the high-pitched voice, her eyes snapping to her own alive face.

Oh, Chappy needed instructions.

"Be quiet and pretend to sleep in his arms," Lisa said, then pointed at Ichigo as Chappy saluted and grinned. "If he wakes before I return, pretend to be me and have sex with him if he wants it. Don't tell him anything."

The mention of sex pulled the events of the night back to the forefront of Lisa's mind, warming her neck and cheeks at the places where Ichigo's lips touched. Despite needing a few sex Kidos, Ichigo was quite the passionate and beastly lover. He was exactly what she needed after a century of loneliness. The other Vizards all turned her down, saying she was too perverted or not their type, and humans would be crushed under her spiritual outbursts during climax. Just the creamy strawberry Lisa needed, freshly ripe for plucking. And she'd fix his broken psyche too, eventually. That occasional trill of gloom that contorted his face saddened Lisa to her core. No sexy guy should make that face—ever.

Lisa tiptoed over to the window, a hand on the hilt of her Zanpakuto as she'd recently made a habit of. The moon was full and bright. She cast a glance back at Ichigo's illuminated figure before lifting the wooden frame that squeaked once. Ichigo stirred, igniting Lisa's heart for a moment. Ichigo could see spirits—and she wasn't ready to explain the afterlife to him just yet. He wasn't ready.

Lisa flash stepped through the window and landed on a foothold of her spiritual pressure. Closing the glass with another squeak, she concentrated her power and prepared for a concealed flash step. She needed answerers from Kisuke—and Ichigo needed an Asauchi to control his growing Soul Reaper powers which he inherited from Isshin. Someway the powers granted through the noble Shiba line manifested in a human body. This boy possessed an unimaginable potential only seen once in a handful of centuries. The thought both intimidated and aroused Lisa like no other.

Rooftops passed in a mosaic blur of dark purple, the wind buffeted around Lisa's cocoon of spiritual pressure. She dashed without effort, without thought or concern for being seen by the stationed Soul Reaper in Karakura. They were always incompetent and weak. They'd never see Lisa at this speed. Every stationed Reaper had been a lower-seated officer who didn't have the prowess or skill to handle this spiritual hotspot, but were silently backed up by Kisuke and Yoruichi and Hiyori. The other Vizards also contributed when the Hollows had felt extra suicidal or extra vicious—whichever the stupid beasts could even feel. And somehow, Soul Society never noticed their interference… probably thanks to Kisuke's work which Lisa hadn't queried. She wasn't interested in his bizarre but incredible inventions.

Parks and shops and countless houses blurred beneath Lisa's feet before she neared the city centre. Sparse skyscrapers greeted her in their typical grey lifelessness. She grimaced. Modern architecture was a pathetic tribute to Japanese heritage; the Seireitei and noble compounds were far more lively despite the lack of technology.

Urahara's shop entered view when Lisa flash stepped around the fourth skyscraper. Small, wooden, and undeniably Japanese in style.

Landing at the entrance in near silence, she knocked, only to be stopped by a firm hand around her wrist

"Back already?" Kisuke's jovial voice said behind his fan. "Something wrong with the prototype enhanced Gigai?."

Lisa shook off her surprise. Kisuke had been a captain after all. "No. It's working very well. I can perform slow flash steps and manipulate small amounts of my spiritual pressure while in it. Very impressive." She offered a smirk—not a sexy smirk like she seduced Ichigo with but a polite one.

Kisuke waved his fan. "No negative interactions with your inner Hollow?"

"None that I know of." None that she could recall, but… Ichigo had seen something on her face if her intuition was in tune. "But Ichigo may have seen something."

"Oh?" he said, voice and eyebrows rising beneath that silly hat.

"He didn't say anything so I let it drop." And she was too busy having hot, wild sex with a fifteen year old. Lisa decided to keep that part a secret—for now. The Vizards would tease her for decades to come so some peace before the storm was warranted. That, and the fact she was two centuries older than Ichigo, embarrassing but turning Lisa on by a small degree. Her clan would be in an uproar. She'd become too kinky for her own good.

"Do you have the Gigai with you?"

"No." Still naked, wrapped around Ichigo's body.

"Then why are you here?" he said in a near whisper. He shut the fan, his features serious but not menacing or negative. Only curious.

A direct approach would be best, Lisa decided after a few breaths. That's how Kisuke liked it, despite treating people in the opposite manner. "I have a few questions regarding Ichigo. Why is he so powerful? How is his spirit energy manifesting to such an extent whilst in a human body? Why can't he feel his own power? What happened to Isshin?" She paused and took a breath, considering her next question. She'd only met Isshin for a brief minute and too much prying might be uncalled for. "Why can't Isshin train him?" Was the man trying to set up his horny son with her? "Wasn't he an upcoming captain in training for squad—"

"My my. That's a lot of questions."

It didn't look like he wanted to answer, if his hat-covered eyes could hint anything for Lisa to pick up in. "And I need to get Ichigo an Asauchi. He already knows what it is."

Kisuke flinched, his hat slipping an inch. "An Asauchi?"

Lisa brushed off his surprise, not buying the act as he was a genius and inventor greater than anyone alive in Soul Society. How did he not come to the same conclusion? "I already tried to jump-start his power by pouring some of mine into him." She'd poured plenty into Ichigo during their eleven shared orgasms. Nothing, no matter how much she'd pumped, would activate the leaking spirit energy in the boy's soul. Something was holding Ichigo back, keeping a tight lock on the Soul Reaper part of his soul in his subconscious. "He can't feel anything. He can just barely feel my spirit energy."

"I see," Kisuke said. His face was blank.

"I see?"

He grinned a face-full of perfect white teeth. "You're going to need an Asauchi. It should forcibly draw out his power, even if he's still a human."

A pinprick of irritation fumbled in Lisa's stomach. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Do you have one in?"

Kisuke rubbed his neck. "I wonder if can achieve release."

The sidestepping statement piqued Lisa's curiosity. Could a human body withstand the power of a Shikai? What if it killed him on the spot? The thought of Ichigo joining her in the afterlife was just fine, to Lisa's great astonishment. She was that selfish. "Guess we'll find out," she quipped, chuckling in her mind while Kisuke studied her with those too-intelligent eyes.

"We'll find out," he echoed. Those eyes narrowed by a tiny fraction.

Not good. Kiskue was analysing her and most likely onto her developing feelings and promises for the boy. Better change the subject back to the matter. "So do you have an Asauchi here?"

"No," he said after a long moment, those eyes still fixated on her.

Lisa resisted an urge to roundhouse the shopkeeper, for both those piercing eyes and the lack of an Asauchi. She'd promised Ichigo. "Shit."

"But I know someone who could get one for ya." Kisuske tilted his head up towards the tiled roof.

Yoruichi, in her cat form, sat at the edge, her yellow eyes glowing in the night. Her black tail swished side to side against the deep blue night, mesmerising Lisa. "You'll steal one from Soul Society?" she blurted the only logical explanation. Asauchis were created in Soul Society—by an unknown maker whom all the captains and Central 46 weren't authorised to reveal the identity of. The creator definitely wasn't Kisuke, as he was only a few centuries young, and if he didn't have one here, only one option was left.

"Yes," Yoruichi said, her masculine voice unnerving Lisa.

"You'll risk it? Just to help Ichigo?" The idea seemed too far-fetched, but not unlike something Kisuke would support.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"His leaking spirit energy could give us away. We're not ready to make our move yet."

Lisa didn't buy that lame excuse. Her intuition clicked. "You're going to train him, aren't you? To help when you finally move against Aizen. Because he's so powerful." No wonder Kisuke blatantly considered a human body bearing the power of a released Zanpakuto. He was planning to sacrifice this boy's human life. The revelation didn't trouble Lisa the slightest. She wanted Ichigo, undeterred by how they'd only met yesterday evening.

Though to fight against Sosuke Aizen and even Soul Society…

A picture of a battlefield flashed before Lisa's eyes. Barren and dry. Aizen and Ichigo. They faced each other, boy against a traitor who wielded a monstrous Zanpakuto. The scene was laughable. A boy couldn't defeat a captain level Soul Reaper. A boy couldn't acquire the needed strength to succeed when several captain level Soul Reapers had been failed. A boy couldn't be their hope. Lisa swallowed laughter, but a single thought echoed in her head. A boy couldn't have such potential, already manifesting in human form, but that boy did. Ichigo was going to be something else, something Lisa couldn't even imagine. Something even stronger than her captain, Shunsui Kyoraku.

And he was all hers.

"My my," Kisuke said, smirking. "You figured it out."

Lisa laughed a single breath. "You really think this boy could help us? Help whatever plan you're cooking up?"

"Of course." His fan sprang open, fanning wildly.

"What if the spirit energy he's leaking is just a blip?" she asked, a probe for some more information. Kisuke still hadn't answered any of her initial questions, but letting those slide wouldn't trouble Lisa too much—for now. She'd have plenty of time whilst training Ichigo, which would take weeks and weeks, perhaps years.

"I think we all know it's not just a blip." Kisuke hid behind his fan again. That damned fan made him impossible to read.

Yoruichi leapt from the roof, landing with soft feline grace. "Indeed. I've been keeping track of him for a… while now. To leak so much energy and not even fatigue him means he has already developed a monumental reserve without trying. His potential is unlike anything I've seen."

Lisa's suspicions were all but confirmed. Ichigo Kurosaki-Shiba was deeply cemented into Urahara's plans. He was depending on this boy for at least something crucial in the future—at least a part to play that was important enough to justify sending Yoruichi into Soul Society for a mission, risking her life and everyone's discovery. Kisuke Urahara was indeed one mad genius.

Lisa reluctantly let her unanswered questions drop with a sigh. "Can you get one by tomorrow morning?"

Yoruichi nodded.

"That fast?" Lisa's eyebrows lifted.

"There's plenty lying around in the academy stores. They don't guard it well enough against someone like me." Someone like her—Yoruichi Shihoin.

"Of course," Lisa said lightly but not unseriously. This was still a high-risk mission, after all.

"Don't worry, I'll be back in a few hours using Kisuke's Senkaimon," Yoruichi said, "I know all the hidden trails and secret passages that only I can move through."

She had a point. Lisa nodded. "Fine, we'll drop by tomorrow around ten." Don't let me down, Lisa wanted to add. Her nerves were acting up—she didn't want to disappoint Ichigo and see that pitiful face again, didn't want to see her friends in danger and suffer. She exhaled a cold breath and turned. "I've got a strawberry to babysit."

A burst of spirit energy took her away in a too-loud of a flash step.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Enjoy!** Pls **review and follow!**

 **Druken Sarge: I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! There'll be plenty more juvenile smut scenes to cum!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Ichigo woke with a usual morning boner and grouchy headache that thrummed in his skull. Except for this morning… Something wet, soft, and tight gripped his cock. He broke into a rage. "What the flying fuck?! You fucking disgusting old man!" Ichigo screamed from his belly, shot straight, and round-housed his perverted dad off from his bed. This was a new low, far more depraved than anything else he'd ever encountered with Goat-chin.

His foot met soft, slender flesh—feminine.

The girl tumbled away and crashed into the far wall, then slumped into a naked mess. "You fucker," she mumbled, rubbing her head of long, black hair. Her features registered in a heartbeat.

Lisa.

Yesterday's events flashed before Ichigo's eyes. The doorstep. Jazz. Her panties. Cooking. Watching her masturbate. The shower. Everything including the Kido and the Asauchi and their ten shared orgasms beneath the moon. He'd lost his virginity to this amazing, beautiful, horny goddess. He was closer to being a man than ever before.

And he'd just kicked her into the wall, thinking she was his dad. Shit. "Lisa! Are you al—"

"Cut it," Lisa snapped, slowly standing straight as her breasts jiggled once. She stood with her legs apart, a drop of her arousal running down her thigh. She'd been fucking him while he was asleep.

Ichigo's jaw sagged. It was all real. He'd really fucked and ravaged her body like he'd fantasied since his first wet dreams. He'd given her eleven orgasms in every position he'd imagined, taking her over and over till he'd collapsed into her embrace. She was all his.

And despite last night, apparently, she still hadn't been fully satisfied. The fact that she'd been violating him in his sleep didn't bother him at all. It set his simmering lust ablaze like she'd done so last night. Lisa was truly something else. He'd have sex with her for a long time to come.

Lisa stretched, her torso arching forward and undulated in an erotic wave.

Holy hell. A naked girl showed herself off in his room—just like last night. His morning boner spasmed in her direction, calling for her, needing her warm pussy more and more by the second.

Ichigo swallowed a mouthful of spittle as she rubbed her naked side.

Lisa's face scrunched for a second. She scowled at Ichigo as her spiritual pressure weaved a gritty cage around his body.

Not good. His boner wilted an inch.

Ichigo sank into a kneel on his bed, wary of what she'd do to him. That supernatural power of hers shook his psyche like nothing else—more than the fact that he could see ghosts. Her eyes narrowed like a cat's. He said, "Hey, I didn't know you were going to—"

"I said cut it." She strode up to the bed and lay a foot on the edge. Her wetness dribbled onto his sheets; her pussy smelt fresh and sweet from half a meter away. His body leaned forward like a magnet. "I was close to my climax. That wasn't very nice, Strawberry."

That name again. A tic pulled at Ichigo's face. "It's your fault for taking advantage of me in my sleep," he said, annoyed but not agitated for her pressure wouldn't disperse. He had to remain careful. She still hadn't explained all the facets of that portion of her powers.

Lisa's eyebrow arched. "My fault?" She leaned down and placed her fingers on his shoulder, a small electric jolt sparking on his skin. "Your cock poked me awake. You humped me while asleep." Her fingertips traced down his chest and abs."So it's your fault." The texture of her pressure changed… into something more inviting, more soft and snug that fit his physique just right.

"I can't help what happens in my sleep," he argued, "You should have known what you were getting yourself into when you slept with me. I'm just a hormonal teenager."

"A cute one at that." Her finger drawled lower and brushed up his shaft. She caressed his sensitive tip which set off waves of pleasure throughout his body. If yesterday's escapade wasn't clear in Ichigo's mind, he'd have fainted the moment Lisa touched his penis. A goofy grin dared to pull at his cheeks—but he knew Lisa liked a little, or a lot of banter. Just his type of girl.

"But that reaction was uncalled for," she said, "To kick me like that when I'm close to the heights of pleasure. Do you really think your dad would molest you? Are you really that fucked up?"

Ichigo averted eye contact. The sky was clear. Her strokes were sensual. "No. Just caught me off guard."

"Of course." Ichigo couldn't read into her tone.

"I was just tired from last night. My brain was foggy from sleep. We were up till three in the morning. My dad usually attacks me in the morning." The excuses rolled off his tongue one after another, and kept rolling as his thoughts wandered to last night. Sex with Lisa was indescribable, better than anything he'd ever envisioned in his daydreams or seen in his magazines. The first-hand experience was an order of a magnitude better than jerking it off alone at night.

She cut off his ramble, "Well maybe I should sleep in a different room if you need the rest so much."

"Tch, there's plenty of free rooms while my family is gone. You should have slept in Yuzu's bed."

"Hmph." She knelt in front of him. Her tongue ran up his length, a sigh of pleasure escaping Ichigo's lungs. "I guess I will—if sleeping with you is so painful every morning."

Crap. Ichigo stared down those turquoise orbs and met her bluff. "Fine by me."

"Fine then." She smirked and let go of his cock.

He immediately craved for her embrace again. Why did she have to play this game? Though a part of him feared she was being serious. "Doesn't matter. I'll fuck you in any room."

"You'd spill our sex juices in your little sister's room?"

Ichigo tensed—dammit. He had to protect his sisters from his own perversion. The discovery of his Hentai Manga already crossed the line. He shook his head. "No… Tch, whatever."

But the thought of falling asleep without Lisa in his arms pained Ichigo's chest more than it should have. She'd turned him irrational in less than a day. Please keep sleeping with me, he wanted to beg. Sorry about the kick, he wanted to add. He couldn't speak it for he'd promised her no more grovelling or shows of weakness. He'd need to be strong for this. His body fidgeted while Lisa picked at her neat nails and sliced him glances. Amusement danced in her eyes.

"I'll stay in your bed Strawberry," she said once she reached her little finger.

A rush of relief washed over Ichigo's shoulder.

"I don't really care about the kick, but you're going to be punished anyway, just because you're so interesting and have the best reactions, Strawberry." She grinned.

Punished? A new cold wariness rooted in his belly. How would a superhuman, kinky goddess punish him? Just because he was interesting?

"Let me think…" she said, tapping her chin with overt coyness.

And since when was she in charge of their growing relationship?

Ichigo was about to speak when her threat of blackmail replayed in his ears. Her low, seductive phantom voice echoed in his head and taunted the consequences of what'd happen if he fought against her lead—she'd humiliate him in front of everyone! How dare she! He'd spent months and years building a tough-guy image along with Chad, protecting the weak, beating down the bullies that picked on his friends and the helpless. How dare she waltz in and leash him like a dog. If he hadn't been so sex-crazed last night he would never have walked into such a trap.

But he needed her—needed her too much. He'd been so lonely, so cold and detached from his family and friends in this play which they'd called life. Lisa brought new warmth and vibrancy to his life that he'd been so lacking. She was a blazing sun that pierced through the rain. She was his sun, wild and powerful. He'd never tame her.

Perhaps he could put up with this so-called punishment depending on what she decided on… though he mentally vowed to have a serious discussion about this—eventually. Maybe once he was fully convinced she was serious about this relationship with him. He still didn't know who she really was and what she desired with him. He was just a mopey schoolboy who lucked out thanks to his goofy father. How could he best approach the subject without pushing her away? He was never a woman's man despite the occasional ogles he'd received from females at school. He'd been too closed off.

"I know…" she breathed. "No sex for a day."

Ichigo's heart thudded. "What?!" She couldn't be serious. She needed sexual release as much as he did, if not more.

"My my, you've become quite spoilt after just one night." She shifted, covering her breasts and crossing her legs. "Should we make this a week? I wonder how much of a beast you'll become."

A week! His eye twitched before he considered his next words.

He couldn't risk it. "Fine. I'll take the day."

"Changed my mind. Two days."

Fuck. He suppressed a scream. "Fine!"

"Hmph. So spoilt." Lisa hopped off the bed and turned to the door before plucking up her backpack. Her gait radiated the usual grace—it had to be her spirit energy and how it enhanced her physical agility and strength. It could be nothing else. Ichigo's need for those powers piled up at the back of his mind.

He glared at her cute ass and ground his teeth as she left too-slowly. Everything about Lisa enamoured and enthralled him like nothing else. Her beauty, her personality, her powers. Her everything. Damn, he was falling for her hard—falling for her enough that she could play him like a fine-tuned guitar. He was Lisa's instrument in her arms, open to be plucked as she wished for any tune she desired from him. Was Ichigo just her plaything? Just a momentary sexual adventure?

No. He definitely felt something more when he'd delved into her spirit energy. Something real that drew her to him, deeper than anything shallow attraction. She was hiding it well; maybe she hid it from even herself. Ichigo hadn't ever met a girl as complex, as multilayered and intriguing.

He exhaled a hot breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed help. He needed advice, else this girl would destroy his last vestiges of sanity that'd eroded year after year since that night. Ichigo made a note to broach Chad or Tatsuki. They'd always been the mature anchors in his life—far more than Goat-chin or any other adult. They'd always been there for him.

Ichigo breathed several long lungfuls through his nose, letting his erection fade, then stood and strode to his closet. He chose plain pants, boxers, and a button-up shirt which he assumed would impress Lisa even though he was clueless. Girls liked neatly dressed guys, right? Another question for Chad or Tatsuki.

When Ichigo jogged down the stairs, Lisa stood by the front door, dressed in her sexy sailor outfit. She said, "There's not enough food for breakfast. We'll have to go out to eat. I have a car."

No comment on his clothes. Not even a glance or smile. Ichigo made a mental note to try a different combination next time before he nodded. "Where to?" The mundane conversation came naturally.

"I know some nice places." She stepped into her sneakers—clean and sleek.

Nice places. "Not too expensive?" Ichigo asked, hoping his junior account wouldn't be taking too big of a hit today. He'd overhead from various guys at school that men always pay for meals during dates. He was a man going on a date with a beautiful woman. Not a boy. Never a boy again.

"Don't worry about that. I got ya covered." Her tone hinted a double meaning.

Ichigo let it drop—yet again—as a silent thank you for sparing his near non-existent savings that he'd be relying on for college. "Thanks." He flashed her his best genuine smile. She returned it a second later.

Lisa opened the door and walked through. A warm gust of wind rippled through her mini-skirt, lifting the plaid fabric.

She wasn't wearing panties! The lower half of her ass smiled at him.

"Lisa!" Ichigo choked and took her hand. She twisted back. "You forgot your panties."

She smirked that sexy smirk. "I guess I did." Her hand snaked down her side—and pulled up her skirt a couple of inches.

Ichigo let her wrist drop and wiped the surprised expression off his face. He didn't know whether he was aroused or concerned. "People are going to see! You're going to get in trouble for public indecency!"

"Then you'll just have to protect me from horny guys and cops, aren't you, number one protector? You can take this as part of your punishment." She chuckled and turned, walking briskly to the street.

She couldn't be serious. Hundreds of guys could get an eyeful of her delicious pussy. What a fucking punishment this was! Lisa was cruel. He'd need to fuck her extra hard next time as payback.

Frozen in shock, Ichigo's eyes tracked her across white paving and down the road to a—

Holy hell. She drove a matte-black sports car.

Lisa was more than capable of covering today's costs.

Ichigo's jaw unhinged as his eyes bulged at the sight. The car had to be worth more than his family's house and clinic combined.

Somehow, someway in this too-forgiving universe, a beautiful, kinky, superhuman, rich girl landed in Ichigo's life and truly wanted to be with him. This all had to be dream—a wet dream after not jerking off for too long and falling asleep with a raging erection. He reached up to his cheek and pinched, hard. A numb blotch of pain registered after three heartbeats. He pinched twice more, receiving the same reaction from his dream-body. This had to be some kind of extraordinary deep sleep that he'd once heard of in a documentary. Maybe he really was in a coma thanks to Goat-chin's driving.

Or maybe… this was all real? How could it be possible?

The car honked.

He kept gaping.

It honked again, longer. Then again.

After several honks, Ichigo shook his head and remained as cool as his internal panic allowed him. He approached the Lamborghini with caution as if it was a giant snake that would bite the moment he touched. He'd never been impressed with wealth but this was beyond wealthy. The car had to be worth at least two hundred million yen. The model was sleek, high-tech, and sturdy. Something out of an action spy movie he'd seen in his childhood with mom.

Wiping his hand on his trousers, Ichigo entered from the passenger side and slapped on a nervous grin. The interior was just as he imagined. True luxury and perfect air conditioning. Slow violin music played from the surround sound speakers.

"Finally…" Lisa said, shutting the door with the push of a button. "What's wrong with you?"

He swallowed. "You're rich."

"So?" She pressed a red button. The engine hummed to life.

"You're beautiful."

Her head swivelled to Ichigo. "Why thank you. That has to be the first time you've said that to—"

"And you're just as horny and kinky as I am," he said in a rush of words. "This has to be a dream."

"It's not a dream," she said without pause, "Trust me. It's not a dream." Her tone was far from cheerful, like the idea that this all wasn't a dream didn't appeal to her for a reason she wasn't willing to reveal. Strange. "I wish it was."

Did she not want to be here with him? That didn't make any sense. Ichigo shot her a quizzical look.

No response.

Lisa looked back at the road and the car started moving without any extra noise made by the engine. This had to be the smoothest ride in Ichigo's life.

A minute passed before Ichigo decided to break the silence. "Are you alright? Lisa?"

"Yeah." She offered him a glance. Her face was neutral. Those teal orbs revealed nothing.

Ichigo grumbled and sunk into the leather seat. Yet another mystery that made up the girl known as Lisa. For some reason she wanted this to be a bloody dream, after he'd fucked her eleven times and felt her spirit energy that revealed her desire for him! What did it all mean? Who the hell was Lisa Yadoramu? How did Goat-chin know her? She was more or less Ichigo's age, so she couldn't have been in a relationship with his dad unless he was truly sick. And Ichigo's mom only died seven years prior… And his dad never showed any spiritual powers or ability to see the ghosts which Ichigo constantly pointed out. And Ichigo never, ever heard or read of folks in the countryside possessing powers like these… How did Ichigo obtain such spirit energy? Was it genetic? Lisa had only said it was rare to possess a high amount. Was that the true and dominant reason why she was interested in him?

The questions vibrated in his skull like bees as the violins droned on. None of this made sense, a true enigma he couldn't solve. His curiosity grew to a tight pressure on his innards.

A loud sigh cut Ichigo's pondering. "You want to know more about me, don't you?"

So this was it. He wouldn't be able to receive advice from his friends before the inevitable. Fine by him—he'd always been the charge into a river and save a random kid type of guy anyway. He lived life by the skin of his teeth. He breathed and sat as straight as possible. "Yeah. Everything. I want to know who you are, Lisa. Where were you born? What's your family like? How did you discover and train your powers? How did you know my dad? And…" He breathed and placed a hand on her smooth knee. "I want to know why you want to be with me, Ichigo Kurosaki, just an average schoolboy from an average family."

The sentences echoed in Ichigo's ears. No taking it back now. Either their budding relationship was doomed to failure or possibly something real—his first relationship and expression of his heart. Damn whatever deity that made his life so excruciating yet breathtaking.

"Are you sure? You might not like what you hear," she said, voice low, dark and menacing. "What if I'm not the Lisa you think I am? What if I'm something else? Something corrupt and unlike anything you've seen in this world. What if I have a dark side? What if I'm also a monster. Would you still want to be with that Lisa? Think carefully before you answer."

Ichigo closed his too-eager mouth, for he was about to affirm before she said that word. Monster. A monster. How could she be a monster? What if she was?

Ichigo stared at the passing road, which was nearing highway, while all the different supernatural beings were sifted through his mind. "Are you a demon?" She couldn't be a demon—absurd.

Half a minute passed. His heart raced. Lisa didn't look at him. "What if I am?"

No way. "You don't look like one."

"What if I could change my form."

No bloody way. A nervous, quiet chuckle leaked up his throat. This had to be a prank. "You're kidding… right?"

Many heartbeats thumped in Ichigo's head while Lisa steered onto the highway with ease. The engine roared, a burst of speed pinning Ichigo against the seat. Lisa looked at him, an ominous smile across her lips. "No."

Shit. What the hell did he get himself into? What did Goat-chin get him into? A fucking demon? He kept the conversation rolling—like his life depended on it. "Are you a succubus?"

She laughed. The violins played in tune with her musical mirth. "Not a succubus."

Ichigo nodded. "So… what kind of demon?"

"I'll tell you when you get your Asauchi later today. It'll help explain."

Asauchi! He'd be receiving one today? Ichigo's unease washed away in an instant. "I'm getting an Asauchi today?"

"Yeah. I called the shopkeeper when you were asleep. He apparently stays up real late working on his products." She patted his leg. "Don't cut yourself."

"Of course not!" he yelled over the music, too excited at the development. "I've had years of Kendo training!" He was really getting an Asauchi! He'd be just like Lisa once he tapped into his core of spirit energy. He'd finally be able to live up to his name and never fail another friend or family member again. Most of all, he'd never fail Lisa, whom he had to thank for this gift greater than life itself.

"Very good," she quipped. "It'll help with the training by a lot."

And she was going to train him, as promised. Ichigo smiled a blissful smile. Today would only be better than yesterday.

And so what if Lisa was a demon? She wasn't that bad.

* * *

A/N

Enjoy! Pls follow and review!

I've read a lot of romance, and a lot of times it's a rich guy + average girl. Why is it almost never the opposite? Maybe I'll write a rich girl + average guy book and see if it sells on Amazon. Though I doubt it. And yeah, it may not make much sense that Lisa is wealthy. I'll write an explanation that makes some sense...


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The ride to the city centre proceeded in brisk time, clocking in under ten minutes with the speeds Lisa drove at. Ichigo attempted little conversation while the increasingly taller buildings raced by. His thoughts were too preoccupied by the Asauchi and the powers it'd bring him—Lisa dodged every question he'd thrown at her. Spiritual pressure. Demons. Kido. Would he become a demon now? A real sword for god sakes! The local dojo he'd enrolled at forbade training with real, sharp blades for accidents decades prior convinced teachers real weaponry to be unnecessary until the highest levels of instruction, which was reserved for elite black-belt institutions. What if he injured someone by accident?

Ichigo shook off the concern and remained headstrong. He needed this power. He wanted this power—the power and strength to protect his family and friends. Never again would they suffer for his shortcomings and brash actions.

"Do you like noodles?" Lisa asked.

Despite Ichigo's thrill for the Asauchi, he was still just a human who needed food and water everyday. Just a human—not a demon. But this demon next to him needed human food too, apparently. What kind of demon was she?

Knuckles tapped at his arm. "Ichigo. Noodles?"

He blinked twice. "Sounds good."

"Great." The car accelerated and turned a sharp right into an old-fashioned alley. Lanterns, arches, carved stone, and wooden buildings lined the pale, cobble road for at least a few hundred meters. Elders and youngsters meandered along the street, a few couples who looked to be Ichigo's age walked by occasionally. Everyone's eyes darted at Ichigo and Lisa when they drove by, gawking at the vehicle. Perhaps taking the bus would be better next time. Ichigo hated excess attention—but Lisa the exhibitionist appeared to revel in it. He'd have to amp up the tough guy part of his psyche to shoo away some of those so-obviously single guys.

"Are you sure you don't want to put on underwear?" he asked, a last dict effort to make this outing easier.

She chuckled a couple of breaths. "Left it at the house."

Damn. "Fine. Enjoy being perved on by all these guys. Not my problem." It was.

"Oh I will." She licked her lips.

What a slut she was. But that was just how Ichigo liked her, open and sexually free—except he wont be sharing her with anyone. They could peep for a few seconds at the most before he barked them away. Peculiarly, he liked the thought of having to fight for Lisa, mark her as his territory, prove that she was his to cherish and fuck. She was his to protect—and his alone. No one else's. Property of the number one protect, but he'd never say that out loud. Certain people would go berserk if they heard him say that, though not Lisa. She liked his fucked-up dirty talk.

Lisa pushed two buttons next to the gearstick that opened both doors. Spice, oil, and other aroma of authentic Japanese cuisine assaulted Ichigo's airways. Delicious. His stomach grumbled and Lisa smiled at the sound. "I love this place, been here many times with the vi— my friends from the countryside. Smells good?"

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled and stored her little slip in his mental files. Her kind had a name, starting with vi, not a demon name he was familiar with. No point in asking now—she'd be explaining everything once he had an Asauchi in hand. And he was too hungry right now.

A couple of girls and a guy chatted in view outside of Lisa's door, voices too low to hear but they looked to be admiring the car. The guy was looking at Lisa. Ichigo's blood heated.

He reached over and Lisa's hand before she exited, then leaned into her face. His lips met hers before she could react, and before Ichigo realised he had no clue on how to kiss a girl… so he gently bit and licked her soft lower lip, suckling her sweet balm for a good five seconds to hammer in the message that she was his, right in view of that leering guy. She tasted different to his own lip, not bad or strange, but different to what he expected of flesh and spittle. He couldn't quite identify the unique flavour.

When Ichigo backed out, Lisa wore a comical expression and visibly swallowed laughter. His ears and cheeks heated. "You're mine, remember that," he said, false confidence obvious in his voice.

"If you say so, Strawberry," she quipped and exited the Lamborghini with a single, smooth motion, a hand pressing down her skirt thankfully.

Blush blooming, Ichigo clunked his way out through his side a second later and scrambled over to her. His arm clamped around her, pulling her close, out of instinct. Lisa's body was warm and sleek and fit just right in his embrace, just right for him. He could ignore the looks they were receiving with her in his arm.

Lisa locked the car with a wireless device and nodded to a wooden door surrounded by greenery. His steps matched hers without pause, perfect sync. The cobbled ground almost tripped Ichigo's footing twice.

"So, was that supposed to be a kiss?" she asked low enough so people wouldn't hear.

"No," he said, his face molten. "Just a quick peck."

"In front of those girls and that guy? To prove I'm yours?"

A small scoff rumbled up Ichigo's throat. "Of course."

"Hmph, didn't know you're jealous type." She chuckled and whistled a strange, teasing tune he hadn't heard before.

He slapped her ass. "Cut it out, I'm not jealous! I don't want to lose my horny demon. I'm just new to this, okay?" Jealous wasn't the right word for what he felt. He needed Lisa in his life, and was willing to fight the monsters of hell to keep her in his life, battle a hundred other demon guys to prove he was worthy to be hers. He wanted Lisa beyond all else now—just a day after meeting her. Such a dramatic turn in his life this was.

"Oh I know. Just teasing my creamy Strawberry is all." She pushed open the door and pulled him in with that inhumane, demon strength.

The restaurant smelt like noodle heaven. Sweet, sour, savoury, and the hottest spices he'd breathed in years. How did Ichigo not know of this alley? It was magic, pure culinary magic that he should have shared with his family and friends. He made another mental note, promising to bring them here sometime—once he sorted out his financial troubles. A part time job at the local supermarket would be sufficient.

The interior was darkly lit, typical bamboo and chestnut decor Ichigo expected of this Japanese styled alley. Few people dined, a guy here and there. A couple in the corner. A group of friends to the left. Nothing out of the ordinary that could spark alarm. The guys were too busy chatting and eating mouthfuls of thick noodles to notice the exhibitionist in the room. Lisa hadn't pulled down her skirt—they'd be able to see her tight, puffy pussy at the right angles. His aching stomach clenched at the thought.

Lisa led him to an adjoining room, more private and far less occupied. Only one person dined. She stopped halfway to the window. She eyed a guy with neat, black hair and glasses, wearing all-white clothing.

Ichigo pulled her closer. "What is it?"

"This table will be good." She tapped the nearest table and sat against the wall, facing the guy. Her legs were spread, not wide, but enough that he'd be able to see everything if he look beneath the wood.

Dammit.

"Slut," Ichigo mouthed.

She didn't respond, gaze focused on the teen, intense and serious, like he posed some kind of threat Ichigo missed when he scanned the room. A skinny, effeminate guy with neat hair and weird clothes, posing a threat. How absurd. But Lisa didn't stop glaring, even when Ichigo sat next to her and put a hand on her inner-thigh. Something was up—all centred around this strange guy sitting at the opposite side of the room whom Ichigo vaguely recognised. Did he attend Karakura high?

"Do you know him?" Ichigo whispered.

A waitress entered view, bringing a steaming, stone-kettle and two thin booklets. "Tea?" she said.

Lisa nodded and gestured, then took a booklet and handed the other to Ichigo. The leather was cold and smelt new, like it had been refrigerated or put under ice. The sensation against his fingers felt refreshing. Posh and classy, unlike the backwater, cheap restaurants Ichigo dined at once a fortnight. He could get used to this.

Lisa spoke when the waitress bowed and left. "In a way."

"In a way?" Ichigo took a sip of tea. It was scalding. He set down the stone cup and sucked on his tongue—not a good start.

"He's a spirit energy user, a different type compared to me. I haven't seen one of their kind in a long time. Keep an eye on him."

"How do you know?" Ichigo couldn't feel anything from the guy. No spiritual pressure. No spirit energy.

She threw him a glance. "His spirit energy, although highly suppressed." So his sense of energy was still terrible. "And his clothing. It's typical of their kind. This might not be good."

Might not be good. Ichigo surely felt that. "You're enemies?"

"Yeah."

Shit. Definitely not good. His hand tightened around her leg. "Should we lea—"

"He's no match for me. Don't worry. I'm far more powerful than I look or anything you saw yesterday." Her words rang with confidence. Real confidence. Ichigo hadn't heard someone so sure of themselves in a long time. Her coolness and tiny smirk convinced him she wasn't bluffing. "Stay and eat." A command.

"Fine." He unhanded her thigh and opened the menu.

Ichigo examined him once more before choosing a meal. The guy still hadn't noticed them, still hadn't looked up from his platter of food once. His silver rimmed glasses glinted under lantern light. His hair was very neat and combed—too neat and quite long. Small, light-blue patterns decorated the edges of his white tunic, unlike anything Ichigo had seen. The design had to be western, European, and centuries old, like he was descended from royalty. He certainly looked part-European like Lisa. Maybe that's where these demons originated—from the west. But that didn't explain Ichigo's latent powers. Strange. Stranger by the hour. He grumbled and looked down at the menu.

Ichigo's eyes darted to an image of spicy, beef noodle soup. He stomach sounded at the sight. But it was expensive. "Can I get this?" he asked Lisa.

She laughed a soft pant. "Yes. You don't have to ask."

"Right." Spending her money wasn't right. He had to protect her, to provide for her. It was a primal urge he couldn't muzzle. "I'll pay you back."

"Don't," she said, a hand on his arm. "Money is meaningless to me." How could she say that? Her teal orbs glinted soft sadness.

"If you say so," he said, but made a note to save up for this meal nevertheless. It was her money. He couldn't understand her, understand this shape-shifting demon-girl. Perhaps demons obtained all their money through thievery or owned the banks and money systems thanks to their supernatural power. This explanation of hers better be good.

At the corner of Ichigo's vision, that guy was looking at Lisa, intently. His pale features fought back hatred.

Ichigo's veins ignited. He'd not let anyone look at Lisa that way, not even some royal demon guy. "Hey, glasses!" he snapped, slapping the table. "Keep it to yourself!"

"Be careful, Kurosaki."

He knew Ichigo's name! "What?! How the hell do you know me? Who are you?!"

He sneered. "You don't even know your own classmates? I'm in over half of your classes. I'm Uryu Ishida!"

The revelation stuck Ichigo in the chest. A demon attended his school?! The whole time?! Did Uryu know of his leaking spirit energy too? How many more demons lived in Karakura? This was insane. The room spun, Ichigo's heart racing as his mind descended into a cacophony.

"I'd stay away from her, if I was you," Uryu said.

Ichigo sneered. "Wha—"

Lisa interrupted, edged steel in her voice, "And why should he, Quincy?"

A Quincy. Ichigo finally had a name—for Uryu's kind of demon at least.

"So she talks." Uryu adjusted his glasses. "Preying on schoolboys? I wouldn't expect anything else from a Shinigami."

Lisa bumped into the table. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shinigami?! A fucking death god? Lisa was a grim reaper, if not the grim reaper from the tales he'd read in fantasy books since childhood. This was too much.

And did this mean Lisa was dead? A ghost? No fucking way. Ichigo brushed against her leg, checking that she was indeed alive and not a transparent spirit. He could touch spirits when he helped them every now and then, but their bodies felt off and cold, devoid of life like they indeed were. Lisa's body radiated warmth. She couldn't be dead. She wasn't dead, dammit.

"Lisa," Ichigo whispered and took her knee. "Are you a ghost?"

"Not now," she said, looking at Ichigo for a moment.

"Hmph, so you didn't tell him," Uryu said, "were you going to use him and then disappear once your assignment is done?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Lisa said. "And I'm not obliged to explain to you, either."

Uryu's eyes narrowed. His right arm twitched. "Oh? So you're here without permi—"

"As I said," Lisa said, voice rising, "I'm not obliged to explain myself to you. I wouldn't expect your kind to understand. Your selfish people never did!"

Uryu stood. His spiritual pressure erupted, crushing Ichigo's chest before Lisa shielded him with her protective pressure. She smirked, a heartbeat later her pressure stirred and detonated.

The sight was something to behold. In an instant, Uryu collapsed to his knees, eyes bulging as he palmed the floor. His breathing came in hagged gasps and wheezes. The show of sheer power astounded Ichigo. Never in his wildest fantasies did he think someone like Lisa could pin a guy to the ground without even moving.

Light footsteps tapped in the doorway. Ichigo's heart thudded. A wave of adrenaline coursed through his body. If anyone saw this display they'd react badly—bad enough that they could scream and run away in a panic, or at least cause a scene that would drag the police to this place. This little date was quickly turning a disaster.

Lisa released her grip on Uryu before the waitress entered; he was back on his feet in less than a second.

"Is everything alright?" the waitress asked.

"Yes," Lisa said, closing her menu. "We're ready to order."

"Apologies, I tripped on a chair," Uryu said and turned before shooting Lisa a last glare. "I'll go pay my bill now." He walked out too quickly. The waitress eyed him with a bemused look.

Ichigo decided to speak up and defuse the situation before his pounding heart broke through his ribcage. "He'll be fine. I know him from my school. Snobbish, prideful guy…" He shook his head and picked up his menu, holding it out to the waitress. "Please, forget about him, I'd like the spicy pork noodle soup for my main course." He beamed a warm smile for extra measure.

The waitress shrugged and penned his order onto an ornate, wooden clipboard. Her kimono billowed as she walked over, a light current blowing through the window. "And you, madam?"

"Spicy chicken noodles, fried. Extra sauce."

While their orders were taken, Ichigo replayed the confrontation in his mind, clear and undistorted while fresh. His name was Uryu Ishida. Damn, Ichigo should have known that, paid more attention to his classmates and surroundings at Karakura High. He'd assumed everyone else was mundane without any quirks whatsoever—that they couldn't see ghosts like he could. Neither Chad or Tatsuki or his circle of acquaintances could, and Ichigo assumed no one else either. Big mistake. How many more of his kind attended?

Quincy. Monk of destruction. That's what Lisa called him. What a title that was! A monk dwelling right here in modern-day Japan with the power to destroy. The name amassed more questions. Was that Uryu's power? The power of destruction? If so, then he could be dangerous, a threat to Lisa, his friends, and his family. But he hadn't done anything. He'd been just another student until now; he'd been innocent and still is. This was some kind of feud between the Shanghai and Quincy that Ichigo didn't know all the details of. He had to reserve judgement—for now.

And Lisa. She was a grim reaper! Did that mean she ferried souls to the afterlife? Is that why she was in Karakura? Her assignment? All the questions bulged in Ichigo's head, threatening to burst as Lisa ordered sides, drinks, and dessert. How did Goat-chin know her? This made no fucking sense!

Ichigo inwardly shook his head, took a sip of tea, and looked out the window. Sparse clouds had drifted into Karakura, the sun still low in the sky. They'd have all day to buy the Asauchi and get this all cleared up. To unlock his powers that he needed beyond all else including sex with Lisa.

He examined the climax of their confrontation twice—Lisa's taunt and Uryu's outburst. If Lisa's words were genuine, the Quincy were selfish for whatever reason, and judging Uryu's reaction, the claim held some truth. She'd obviously hit a nerve to invoke a violent response from such a well-kept, pretty guy. Ichigo couldn't even guess what might have happened between their two factions, but it must have had been significant and scarring for two random individuals to be so hostile… Though not so hostile that they would attack each other on sight. They were hard rivals with a bad history, Ichigo concluded. Not mortal foes.

And worse of all, they'd both outclassed Ichigo. Uryu had Ichigo's entire body clamped down with spiritual pressure. And then Lisa bested him by an order of magnitude. Unreal. His mind swam with all the prospects of such power—though one possibility stood out overall: He could have saved mom from whatever killed her that night. He could've pulled that kid away from a distance. He could've prevented himself from losing consciousness. He could've sensed whatever was out there.

A thought struck him like lightning. Did a Quincy, a monk of destruction, kill his mother? Was that why they are considered selfish?

Ichigo clamped shut his jaw as his veins blazed. He needed answers this fucking minute.

A sharp pain whacked his foot. "Cut that out!" Lisa said.

"The hell?!" Ichigo pulled his throbbing appendage away from her.

"You're brooding. I can feel it in your spirit energy." She refilled his teacup. "Calm down. You're ruining the mood."

He snatched up his cup and drank a mouthful. Bitter and sweet liquid washed down his throat. "I just want some answers," he said, tone quite unhinged. "What happened between Quincy and Shinigami? Are you a grim reaper? Guide souls to the afterlife? What about the Quincy? What do they do—"

Lisa frowned. "I told you, I'll explain once we get an Asauchi from the shop—"

"And what kind of demon is a Shinigami? Demons are monsters from hell. Like horned with wings and stuff."

A dark expression flashed across her face. As she opened her mouth, the Waitress walked in, two dishes in hand. Ichigo growled under his breath at the poor timing.

Though the soup Lisa ordered smelled divine. Mushroom chicken for him and creamy chicken for her. Chicken food appeared to be one her favourites, similar to Ichigo. And despite his questions, he was still hungry. The confrontation hadn't ruined his raging appetite, which was unusually high. Ichigo nodded to the waitress when she set his bowl on the table, unable to put on a kind act. Lisa thanked her and elbowed his side.

"I was about to say…" Lisa said, shoving a spoonful into her mouth. "Mmmmm! This is delicious! I knew this new dish would be good!"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and mirrored her. Mushroom and chicken flavour exploded on his tongue. "Holy hell!"

"I was about to say that you should eat. You're very grouchy when hungry! I promise to explain everything later. Trust me." She grabbed the bowl and began to pour the creamy goodness into her mouth. No grace here.

"Fine." He did the same, gorging himself similarly. She was just like him in this regard. Yuzu and Karin always teased him for eating like a pig even though he couldn't help it. His hunger grew and grew and grew when he approached his teenage years, and then skyrocketed when he hit puberty. Sometimes he ate more than his stomach could physically hold and he still felt hungry. Thankfully, Goat-chin never questioned it, despite his sisters' concerns. Now he had a beautiful girlfriend to stuff his face along with.

Girlfriend? When did she become his girlfriend?

He set his half-empty bowl on the table and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Lisa."

"Hmm?" she didn't stop stuffing herself.

He went for it. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

She laughed into the bowl and choked several breaths before calming down. "You've made me promise to never leave you and then you ask me to be your girlfriend?" Her eyebrow arched into her hairline.

Ichigo's ears burned. "Tch, I was just asking. I dunno why." Being his girlfriend made their relationship feel more official, more real. "It makes this thing we have together more real. You know? You and I."

She huffed. "Yes, Ichigo. I will be your girlfriend." Her coy expression abruptly faded. "But we should see what you think once I reveal my true self to you."

Oh right. She was a demon. A Shinigami. He recalled a few different types of grim reapers in his Hentai magazines. They all looked grotesque and hideous and monstrous—nothing he'd ever want to be in a relationship with. But none had beautiful, human forms like Lisa… Lisa who was unlike any girl he'd ever met and was about to give him a priceless gift. They clicked better than anything. She was now his sun. He sighed and locked eyes with her. "I want to be with you, Lisa. Even if your true form has wings and horns."

A soft smile spread across her lips. "Hmph, we'll see."

He smiled back and picked up his bowl as the waitress entered with a trolley holding several plates.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Sorry, there might've** be **quite a few errors/typos in this chap but** im **going to be doing an edit of all the chapters soon. So bear with me.**

 **Enjoy! Pls follow and review!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Feeling better? Strawberry?" Lisa asked as she finished her ice cream.

Ichigo rubbed his belly, fuller than he'd been in weeks, though he wasn't bloated. He could still eat. "Yeah. That was incredible," he sighed.

For just a meal, it had been something else, something Ichigo didn't realise he'd been missing in his life till now. Yes, Yuzu's and Goat-chin's cooking satisfied his appetite, but this was next-level luxury. The spicy noodle soup he ordered tasted exquisite, rich in every flavour that was advertised. Saliva pooled at the memory. Thick, chewy noodles. Tender pork, doused in spice, smeared in herbs, and coated in mouth-watering savoury sauce. Soup that he could live off. And the salads were fresh, dressed just right to complement the pork. The ice cream was ice cream, Ichigo had to admit—but he always loved that frozen, runny stuff. He licked his lips, the flavours still coated on. He swore the food was almost as good as sex with Lisa.

They'd eaten in relative silence, too busy shovelling food into their mouths. Ichigo had attempted conversation every few mouthfuls, but alas, he'd been brushed off again. How strange that Lisa needed the sword so much to explain her background. Couldn't she just use hers? Did she even possess one?

"Hey," he said, nudging her elbow. "Do you have an Asauchi?"

"Yup." Lisa wiped her lips and took a swig of cold tea. "I have a Zanpakuto. I just don't carry it around in this body…" Her tongue poked into the inside of her right cheek. "I wonder if I can summon it."

In this body. The words reverberated in Ichigo's skull. That body—not her true body. The body of a Shinigami, a demon. He swallowed. "So… When I get an Asauchi… will I become a—"

She shook her head. "It's complicated. Don't worry. You'll understand when I show you. It'll all be explained."

All be explained. Ichigo's belly churned in worry. Several images of winged created appeared in his mind, each more horrifying than the previous. Though at least Lisa had a sexy human form for Ichigo to fuck. He exhaled in a puff and stretched his arms behind his head. What a ride his life had become.

"Calm down," Lisa said, "It's not like you've sold your soul to me." She chuckled and swirled her teacup.

"Tch, real funny." But he'd made her promise to never leave him. A contract. A contract with a death god. "But are you really a god?"

She considered him with an appraising look, her turquoise eyes flat and unrevealing. "Not really, No. We're not gods or deities for even we have our limits. But in some ways compared to humans, yes."

A shiver ran down Ichigo's back, worsened by the ice cream and iced tea in his system. "In what ways?"

"Not many." She looked down and picked at her nails.

Ichigo grumbled and fought back the encroaching hesitance that urged him to not go through with this. How much of his humanity would this Asauchi take from him? Would he be turned into a Shinigami, like her? The worries pressed deep into his belly as Lisa continued her vague question dodging. Why wouldn't she just tell him straight up? Did she really need an Asauchi to explain to him? Something wasn't adding up—something Ichigo couldn't grasp onto or even find a straw to pull at. He was lost, in Lisa's mysterious maze of clues.

But one fact would never change—he'd vowed to protect his family and friends. At any cost, even if it cost him his life. He needed that Asauchi even if he didn't want it—hopefully it won't turn him into a horned monstrosity. Even if it did, he'd have no regrets if it kept everyone safe, if it kept Lisa safe. But he had one vital question, an important question beyond all else. "Just tell me," he breathed, "will this sword turn me into a Shinigami? Are you recruiting me for your kind?" He gazed into eyes and focused every drop of concentration on her.

Lisa exhaled and took his hand. Her fingers were chilled from the ice cream bowl. "Not today, or tomorrow. Or even this year…" She offered him a sad smile and leaned in, then kissed his cheek. Her lips were just as cold, like a ghost's. Damn ice cream. "But eventually when you're ready. It's inevitable for someone with spirit energy as potent as yours else it will cause trouble eventually. And you'll still be human for a good while, alright? And even when you become like me, you can still live like one, as I am now, aren't I? Am I not passing off as a good human right now? Did I not fool you at the door or the waitress back there? So does it matter? Life is life, my creamy Strawberry. Enjoy it." She flashed him that brilliant, pure smile he'd only seen once before.

His outlook brightened as that smile shone warmth into his soul. She was right. He'd always be Ichigo Kurosaki—human or not. He'd always be the number one protector and the power of the Shinigami would allow him to become exactly that. Though he still didn't know the exact duties of Shinigami, he assumed they wouldn't be too invasive to his life as Lisa didn't appear too bogged down. But perhaps her current duty was him, to recruit Ichigo. Was this all an act? No. He definitely felt something real in her spirit energy while he fucked her crazy. He pecked her on her now-warmer lips. "Alright. Let's go get that Asauchi."

"Very well," Lisa said and stood. "I was about to say anyway. Kisuke said he should have one ready by now."

"The shopkeeper?" Ichigo followed suit, his chair scraping along the polished wood. He cringed at his lack of grace.

"Yup. Let's go."

The wind outside had intensified and Lisa's miniskirt fluttered in the draft. She didn't press down the fabric as she led Ichigo to the counter. A guy clearly received a peek of her cherry as they waited at the register, much to Ichigo's chagrin. He clenched back the knot forming in his belly before he snapped at the pervert or bent Lisa over and spanked her raw for doing this to him. Instead, Ichigo snaked his hand around her leg and held her skirt down against her damp pussy. Tendrils of hot lust seeped into his waist at the touch.

Ichigo shot the guy a dark glare while his pants erected a small tent. The grouchy perv, who looked to be in his early twenties and not too hideous, turned away after a few more seconds of failed peeping. Lisa was his, and his alone.

The cashier smiled as Lisa retrieved a shiny, gold bank-card from a strap on her upper arm. Handy, Ichigo noted. "That will be thirty thousand yen miss," she said.

Thirty. Thousand. Yen. For a single breakfast. Ichigo coughed loudly, earning a disparaging glance from Lisa. He sighed and promised himself to pay her back someday, with protection, with wild sex if she wouldn't accept his money. Fine by him. He rubbed her juicy vulva through the thin fabric, the room oblivious to their naughty display.

Lisa paid and exchanged a few mouthfuls of smalltalk before Ichigo guided her out the moment the transaction accepted, careful to not let her skirt billow up again. The gathering customers began to notice the model-tier girl in their midst. Ichigo breathed in yummy air—best to not start a scene.

They exited without trouble. "Hmph," Lisa mumbled when they were seated in her Lamborghini. "You are the jealous type." She pouted.

"Guess I am," Ichigo growled, "I'm not letting some perv ogle your goods." Her divine body. A body of a goddess—a real goddess of death.

"A perv? Like me? And you?" She ignited the engine. "But I guess you do have to mark your territory, so it's understandable." She pulled into reverse to back out of the parking space and then drove down the alley with a single, smooth motion of the wheel. People turned their heads as usual. The car was far too inconspicuous.

"You got that right. You're my girlfriend now." Ichigo grinned and grabbed her soft thigh, his thumb at the boundary of her moist entrance, inching closer to her clit.

She slapped his hand away. "No sex for two days, remember?"

Damn. Ichigo's eyes rolled. "Ya I remember. Let's just hurry and get to this guy's shop." No sex, but these Shinigami powers were better than sex.

"Of course." The car accelerated as Lisa turned onto the main road.

Ichigo stared out the window, taking in the sight of the city skyscrapers as his penis calmed. A familiar feeling crept up his spine and rested upon his shoulders. The metal columns resonated with his being in an uncanny way, like he was at home even though the greyness repulsed him and he'd rarely ventured this deep. Like this grey cityscape represented a perfect image for his mental prison that he'd suffered through for six years. Horrid yet bleak and devoid of life. Cold and jarring, the sentence of city life. He'd never wish to live here within the skyscrapers. Not willingly.

Lisa brought him here… Perhaps she'd felt something in his spirit energy, in his heart, just like he'd felt in hers. Perhaps she'd wanted to make a point… but what?

The alley? A hidden gem nestled within a greyish hell? Possible.

Perhaps it'd been a coincidence—that Lisa just wanted a nice place to eat at and all the nice places happened to be located in the city centre. So just a happenstance? Much more possible.

Ichigo couldn't read Lisa without sinking into her well of spirit energy. She was a multifaceted gem that he couldn't crack open at glance. For now, she was his all-powerful, mystery-ridden sun.

And he'd been expecting a worse confrontation over her exhibitionist kink. He'd kept his cool better than he thought he could, a startling achievement, defying his track record of losing it when agitated. Impressive.

Though it may be that Lisa's display against Uryu had humbled him somewhat. How could he, Ichigo Kurosaki the human, tame a god? She'd tamed him within hours for god's sake.

Lisa's musical voice interrupted his trance. "Enjoying the view?"

"Yeah," he said, unsure of how to describe what he felt. "I like watching the towers pass by." In a way he did. It helped him reflect, which he so, so lacked.

Shaking his head, he thumbed at the nearest building. "Is this shop in one of these buildings?" It better not.

"No." She pointed to the distance, beyond the next intersection. "It'll stand out. It's kind of comical really among all these tall buildings."

A good sign. Small and wholesome. Just like the house and clinic. "Great," he said and laid a hand on her knee—so sexy and petite and delicate, like her bones would break if he fucked her too hard—but he knew better. Her body was more durable than the hardest alloys. Spirit energy worked in weird and wonderful ways that didn't make sense. It was the supernatural—straight out of his magazines.

"So," she said, casting him a prodding look. "What forms have you trained in?"

A moment passed before Ichigo understood she meant fighting forms. An easy question. He answered, "Judo and Karate mostly. Some of the others too but not nearly as much. I work out and jog in the park to keep up my shape."

"Well, that's good." She smiled lightly. Her white teeth glowed in the mid-day sun. "How long have you been at it?"

"I've trained since I was a boy. Just short of black belt."

"Just short of black?"

"Yeah, about a year off."

She exhaled. "Then you've still got a lot to learn in that regard, it'll save some time depending on what Shinigami art you decide to study. Though I can't imagine a strawberry fist-fighter."

A grumble and retort built in Ichigo's mouth.

She spoke again before he could. "Our power is divided into four predominant arts. Hakuda, Hoho, Kido, and Zanjutsu…"

She explained the intricacies of each art, outlining fundamentals and basic principles of why they'd been chosen as a main branch of study. She listed pros and cons of each, weighing the strengths of each art and how they can be complemented and bolstered by another. The best combination was Hoho and Zanjutsu for obvious reasons, but any combination could work well with enough work.

Starting with Hakuda, Ichigo absorbed her explanation with ease like he'd done so in school. Despite not paying much attention, he maintained his status as one of the better students. Hukuda was just like Judo and Karate—except on an extreme level, less rigid and more reliant on improvisation. He could get used to that. He'd always been the jump in and start kicking ass type of guy, brash and rough in approach. The moves Lisa described were incredible, impossible without the use of spirit energy. Kicks, punches, twists, and grapples that needed to be propelled by bursts of energy. Footholds of energy allowed for complex manoeuvres—he could walk on air with this power!

That lead to Hoho—the art of blindingly fast movement. Spirit energy could propel one faster than the human eye could see, faster than a bullet, even faster than lightning strikes with enough skill and power. The thought of such agility nauseated Ichigo. He could already feel the whiplash in his neck, but Lisa described a cocoon of spirit energy wrapped around the body which prevents injury from sudden acceleration. Interesting. Spirit energy seemed to have a thousand applications, half of which didn't make an ounce of sense. Strange stuff.

Ichigo swivelled his gaze across the metropolitan centre, looking for a small, stand-out building. But still, nothing but grey, tall metal and glass surrounded him. A sigh rasped up his airways as he refocused on Lisa's explanation.

Kido. Just like she'd mentioned after they'd fucked in the shower, Kido was divided into several sub-schools. Hado, Bakudo, medicinal, utility, and the forbidden Seido, sex kido. And a few others that Lisa didn't know the detail of—they'd been lost within ancient scrolls thousands of years ago. The last monks of darkness that knew of them had long disappeared.

Hado and Bakudo both relied on precise incantation and control over one's spirit energy, shaping and contorting raw power into intricate patterns needed to weave complex spells. Hado and Bakudo masters could shield themselves at the last second against a devastating attack, or lay destruction to a city at the utterance of two words. Unbelievable. Ichigo could imagine himself becoming such a Shinigami. Baduko was an invaluable tool to protect others—he could have saved his mom if he had that power. Ichigo swallowed his guilt before he fell down that hole again.

Lisa outlined several of her favourite spells. Ichigo took note of Bakudo 81, Danku, a shield that could stop Kido or similar attacks comprised of spirit energy. But it was difficult to cast—extraordinarily difficult as Lisa claimed. There were ninety-nine of each, no more, no less, Hado and Bakudo ninety-nine a hundred times harder to cast than the first. Full incantations reduced the effort required, but were long and cumbersome to recite during battle. She chanted a few examples and Ichigo asked why was the Kido system was so weird. Lisa didn't know—only that the creator of Kido had designed it to be that way tens of thousands of years ago.

Medicinal and utility Kido were very similar, to Ichigo's surprise. Both relied on desire and emotion and lacked any incantation. The stronger one's desire and power, the more effective the Kido. Few Shinigami could even perform the simplest utility Kido, and those who mastered it ventured to become legendary scientists. One scroll that Lisa had read told of a woman who cooked the most delicious meals using utility Kido. Ichigo huffed at that. Maybe he'd get to taste that food one day, if their scrolls weren't full of bollocks.

Sex Kido required a mixture of incantation and desire. Lisa left it at that, a devious smirk on her lips and eyes.

Ichigo's mouth parted to question her on that, but she prattled onto Zanjutsu—Sword art. He'd need to learn Seido one way or another… With that skill under his control, Lisa would be his for eternity. Sex had to be an important stepping stone to winning her heart, fucking her over and over every night, just as he'd promised. Hot, rough, orgasms, better than anything any other guy could offer. Sex Kido would be invaluable. His belly curled in anticipation.

A tight pain struck his cheek.

"Are you listening?!" Lisa snapped as her fingers pinched his cheek.

"Yeah," Ichigo said, flustered at how his hormonal mind drifted. "Zanjutsu right?"

"Right. Don't drift off again." She nodded and continued, her features and voice relaxing back into that of an instructor's.

Sword art covered not just swords, but most melee weapons. Dagger, Katana, Nodachi, polearm, and many more, in many styles which Ichigo hadn't heard of. This was a compulsory field of study which all Shinigami had to be at least proficient in. Defence and offence primarily, but grace and refinement were also highly valued—looking like a brute whilst handling a weapon wasn't a good image for the Shinigami. Ichigo laughed at that and Lisa smiled. Melee combat was just his thing, and he'd been lacking in weapons training. His teachers always said an armed warrior could defeat several unarmed opponents. The only problem was Ichigo wasn't allowed to carry a weapon without facing arrest. Now that he was receiving an invisible spirit weapon, things changed.

As Ichigo pictured himself swinging various weapons, Lisa described several forms that built atop basic technique with a generic melee weapon, the first form specialised for Katanas. Most Shinigami first trained in the first form, for all Asauchi took the form of a Katana. Bonding over the blade in that way helped one develop it into a Zanpakuto… Lisa cut the explanation short when she was about to say more along that line.

"We're almost there. Did you get all that? Are you interested?" she asked.

"Yes. It's all fascinating. Thank you." He still couldn't thank her enough for this. One day he'll repay her.

"Good. Most Shinigami specialise in two fields and few master all. It takes many decades just to master the skill and knowledge of just one, let alone two or more. Though there have been prodigies who've done so in shorter time, they're extremely rare. So don't get your hopes up that you're one." She inclined her head. "Do you have an idea which you'd like to specialise in? I'm asking because I'm skilled in mainline Zanjutsu and Kido. It'd be difficult to teach you the intricacies of the others without getting you another teacher."

The car hadn't moved a meter by the time Ichigo decided. "Then I will specialise in those." Among Kido and Zanjutsu coincidentally being the two fields Ichigo's interest pulled towards, apart from Seido, he wanted to spend as much time with Lisa as possible. Every minute with Lisa was better than the entirety of the past six years. He couldn't imagine his life without her now.

"You sure?" She cast him a look, eyebrow risen an inch. "Not just because of me?"

"I'm sure. Those two seem like the most useful. Being a sword wielding wizard, you know?"

She guffawed a breath. "That's what I thought when I started."

Ichigo grinned. They were so much alike—meant to be together.

Damn, he was really falling for her, and not just a little like a schoolboy crush he'd had for a pretty classmate a few years back.

"But you still haven't told me," she said as the Car pulled into a parking space. "Why do you want this power so badly?"

Ichigo blinked. Goat-chin hadn't told Lisa about his mother! And he hadn't mentioned it once these two days either. Should he tell her now? Indecision gripped his throat as those turquoise eyes prodded him. He could trust her… She was his sun… but he couldn't form the words without plummeting into the rain-drenched hole of his depression, of his guilt. That rainy street flashed before his sight. It was all his fault. What happened to that kid whom he chased after like an idiot? What went wrong that night? It all happened so fast.

He said after a minute, "I vowed to always protect my friends and family. I'll never let them get hurt again." He left it at that and pressed the button to open the car-door on his side.

Lisa frowned but nodded, then said, "I understand. You can tell me about whatever it is when you're ready."

"Thank you."

She sighed. "You don't have to keep thanking me. We're girlfriend-boyfriend now, remember?"

That was right. "Yeah, we are." He leaned to her and pecked her soft cheek before shuffling his way outside.

Nested between two four-story concrete buildings and some kind of hall, Urahara's shop greeted Ichigo with an overt, giant black and white sign plastered on the front wall. The front wooden wall, lacking any concrete or lifelessness. Dark-grey ceramic roof tiles, white walls framed by oak wood, and a frosted glass entrance held together by the same wooden frames. The warmth of the building bled into Ichigo as he strode up to it, Lisa's hand in his.

A black cat ran across the roof and slunk into an open window—Urahara's pet, most likely.

"Is this Urahara guy a Shinigami?" he asked Lisa.

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "Careful. He's a bit… eccentric."

"Eccentric?"

"You'll see."

Right on cue, the sliding door opened and an eccentrically dressed man greeted them with open arms. He wore a dark green coat and some variant of a lighter-green fighting Gi, topped off by a stripped, green and white hat on his light-blonde hair, shading his eyes in darkness. Oh, he wore Genta too.

Ichigo shook off his surprised stupor and offered a hand. "Nice to meet you Mr. Urahara. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki."

"My my," he said. His voice was light and whimsical, like he'd just been smoking something strong. "You're more polite than I thought you'd be and just Urahara's fine. Please, come in, I've got your item ready. And nice to see you again, Lisa."

"You too," she simply said.

"Ah, thanks," Ichigo said and scratched his head. Being so formal wasn't his forte, but Lisa did say to be careful. "Sorry for the trouble. I hope it didn't bother you to get the Asauchi in so quickly." At the corner of his eye, Lisa smirked at him, mocking and coy—she knew this wasn't the real him. He made a note to spank her later.

"Nope," Urahara said as Ichigo took off his shoes and stepped onto polished, wooden floorboards. The classical Japanese interior greeted him with greater warmth than the exterior. Low shelves filled with bizarre contraptions and spherical items lined the shop while leafy plants sat along the walls. Various Japanese decorations, tapestries, and paintings hung on the walls, dark green with wallpaper. A few closed doors displayed large symbols which Ichigo hadn't encountered. He breathed a lungful of mint-scented air, fresh, energising. This was exactly what he needed after being trapped between those skyscrapers.

Lisa stretched her back at his side. "Alright let's get that sword."

Ichigo lifted a brow at her. What was with the rush? He wanted to browse the shelves and examine all the spiritual items. Perhaps there'd be something useful here—like a protection pendant he'd often seen in Anime. Or maybe a ward to repel those ghosts that often wandered through the clinic. They'd always ask for help but Ichigo didn't have a clue on how to send them to the afterlife. That was the job of a death god, he inferred.

Lisa shrugged and meandered to the cash register, pulling Ichigo along with that strength of hers.

"Of course," Urahara said. He walked behind the counter with soft steps, softer than his clunky wooden shoes should allow. He reached up, opening a cabinet, then plucked out an elegant Katana. He placed it on the bench.

A gulp wriggled down Ichigo's neck as he examined the Asauchi. Handle wrapped in black silk. Matte black sheath engraved with red symbols similar to those on the doors. Plain and unremarkable. Just a typical but well-made Katana, nothing hinting that an object made of spirit particles laid before him. "This is it?" Ichigo asked Lisa.

"Yup! One Asauchi in mint condition," Urahara answered. "Two hundred thousand yen, please." He grinned a mouthful of bright teeth.

Ichigo coughed when the price reached his ears. It was as expensive as a real Katana too.

Lisa chuckled and removed her bank card from her arm strap. She leaned to Ichigo's ear and whispered, "You can pay me back with lots of orgasms, Strawberry."

A blush rose up his neck and ears. "Of course," he whispered back. He'd have it no other way.

"Splendid!" Urahara exclaimed and took her card, likely not caring about their private exchange. He was just a shopkeeper after all. Ichigo eyed the blade while the transaction processed.

Not see-through. Peculiar. He'd been expecting it look at least somewhat ethereal like ghosts but it appeared solid. Too solid. He touched the silk and braced his torso and arm, expecting some kind of spirit energy shock or a sudden reaction to his leaking spirit energy.

Nothing. Not even a spark as Ichigo grasped the Asauchi. A pang of disappointment sank into his belly. Maybe Lisa was wrong.

He unsheathed it. "Hey, Urahara, are you sure this is—" Just as he touched the metal, a wave of ice cascaded through his body starting from his hand. The room spun and nausea gripped his head and stomach. He twisted around, searching for Lisa. His sun. She called out to him, panic in her beautiful features. Her words didn't register, her mouth moving in slow motion as every drop of warmth and life force drained into the metal.

He attempted to let go, but his hand was glued to the blade, grip tightening beyond his control. The edge didn't cut him.

He lost balance. Urahara's curious eyes leaned over him while the room darkened.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **More big lemons to come but for now, it will mostly be plot, Ichigo and his powers, and a bit of adventure.**

 **Enjoy! Pls follow and review!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

In this empty, lifeless city, nothing but skyscrapers infested the land till the horizon, a nightmare that Ichigo had woken up to. He'd been laying on a road, on the asphalt devoid of traffic or pedestrians, devoid of noise or any signs of people. Only skyscrapers and roads… Nothing more.

Cold numbness in Ichigo's hand remained for agonising minutes, the drain of his life force still lingering in his chest. And the Asauchi… Nowhere to be seen. No shop. No Urahara.

No Lisa. Her worried face blinked into his eyes and faded away—she hadn't expected this, what the Asauchi did to Ichigo, reacting with his spirit energy in such a way and rendering him unconscious.

But why did they leave him here? In the middle of a road? Was this still even Karakura? He'd kick that strange Shinigami's ass once Ichigo found him. Perhaps this was what Lisa mean by eccentric, meant by how Ichigo had to be careful around him and why she'd been in such a rush to leave that shop. A twinge of worry wrapped around his throat. What if Urahara kidnapped Lisa and was having his sick way with her right now? He definitely seemed like the creepy type of guy who'd do that…

But knowing Lisa, she'd probably enjoy it, the exhibitionist, kinky, slut she was. She'd probably not even fight back with all her powers.

But she was Ichigo's slut to fuck and protect. She'd promised him! He had to find her!

Ichigo breathed and power-walked down the street, head swiveling each time an intersection passed, all identical and grey and barren of life. This couldn't be Karakura.

Though he couldn't know—he'd never ventured so deep into the city. There could've been a deserted section several square miles large that he'd not known of. These towers were just like those they'd drove past—and they all looked the same. All metal-grey and shiny. Cities were all filled with these towers nowadays. Maybe this wasn't Karakura… Lisa did say Hoho allowed one to move faster than a bullet. This could be Tokyo or Kyoto or Kuoh or any city in Japan. Or some abandoned city after that disease outbreak a few years back… they did say almost a hundred people had died. But these buildings were all in perfect condition, the crackless pavement and polished steel shining in the hot air.

The sun shone overhead, bright and hot as ever in the summer day. Ichigo's skin sizzled in the heat, drops of sweat running down his neck and back. This couldn't be real. He had to be unconscious. This had to be a dream, but it felt too real… Too solid. Too lucid. Every sense, sight, sound, touch, smell, was clear as ever. His footsteps clunked onto the spotless sidewalk, his nostrils filling with bland, city air. He pinched his cheek, right where Lisa had pinched him, and a tight pain spread across his face. He didn't wake.

A shadow winked under the sun for a split-second, catching Ichigo's attention as his head snapped upwards.

Nothing in sight—Just that unmoving, blazing sun that looked larger than usual.

It was probably a bird. Ichigo grunted and kicked a stone down the pavement.

"Lisa! Urahara! Don't you fucking touch her!" he yelled in random directions. His voice echoed back several times. "Dammit! What the hell is happening?! Where is everyone?! Lisa!"

Ichigo waited for a response till his impatience twisted his stomach, pushing him onward down the street.

He stopped at the nearest skyscraper as his feet began to ache, sauntering to find the entrance. He really didn't want to enter one of these prisons but it looked like he had no choice, no other option than going inside and finding some zombie who'd sold their soul to the city. A shiver threatened his spine.

When Ichigo circled the entire building, his heart thudded. The building had no doors. "Why the fuck," he mumbled and dashed to the next skyscraper.

It was the same.

He sprinted to the next, ignoring the pain in his feet. He had to find Lisa and save her from that pervert at all costs in this metal inferno—the sun blasted down rays hotter by the minute.

Again, no doors. His stomach sank as he looked down the endless street. Every single one of these steel and glass monstrosities mirrored each other, all lacking doors, all lacking life in this city. Not a car in sight. Not a single other soul among these fifty-floor skyscrapers. "Lisa!" he called again as he ran into the next intersection. "Get your hands off her, Urahara!" The image made him gag. The traffic signals hanged lifeless. He'd walked and ran at least a mile now, passing at least thirty skyscrapers. Where the fuck were the people? An abandoned city section like this was unheard of—businesses, industries, and the government should be swarming a place like this. Unbelievable.

Ichigo heaved and palmed his knees, racking his mind for an explanation, anything that rationalised this place. Nothing popped up. Nothing made sense. An empty, dead city like this couldn't be possible.

Cities rioted with shoppers and workers all day, all night, never ending even during public holidays. Something like this couldn't exist in the world. Cities were all monotonous, crazed machines that never stopped churning noise and pollution, sickening Ichigo. His throat tightened. How could people live in such a place and endure such a lifestyle?

Ichigo's brain whirled, a train of though sprouting. The Asauchi! It'd been draining his life force!

His jaw sagged at the conclusion—what if the blade killed him? Was he in the afterlife?

Ichigo's body tingled, chilling in the heat.

No, No, No. It shouldn't have killed him. Lisa would've known!

But she'd be so surprised when he'd touched the metal.

Ichigo's fingers shook as he placed a hand on his beating chest. He couldn't be dead. His body was so warm.

But this city was unreal, straight out of Hell.

Then it clicked—perhaps this was Hell. Perhaps they'd miscalculated and Lisa had no choice but to send his soul to the afterlife. Perhaps whatever deity existed had passed judgement upon Ichigo and he'd been sent to at least purgatory for his crimes against his family, against his mother. He'd gotten her killed that night. It was all his fault! He'd ripped apart his own family and wrought unending suffering upon his sisters and father. They didn't deserve it—they didn't deserve a brother and son like him. It was all his fault.

And maybe the deity who'd judged him was none other than Lisa! Was this all a ploy and cruel game that the Shinigami played before claiming sinners? Playing his heart like a guitar and claiming his innocence and toying with his deepest desires before damning him to eternal torment? Only a god of death would do that.

No! Lisa couldn't have done that. She was Ichigo's sun, his sexy, Hentai-loving, kinky goddess whom he'd fucked over ten times in a single night. He'd felt her soul and energy. Lisa was his, for whatever reason she held in that deep, mystifying heart of hers that'd drawn her to him yesterday. She couldn't have betrayed him, toyed with his deepest desires like that. Someway, somehow, Ichigo knew that to be true…

But this was definitely a Hell—it had to be Urahara! He was far older, and likely more experienced and powerful than Lisa. No wonder she'd been in a rush to leave that shop of his. Urahara must have rigged the Asauchi and then passed judgement on Ichigo's soul, deeming him unworthy of the Shinigami's power. He'd let everyone down, again, all over again. He'd failed them. His vow of repentance wasn't enough for the Shinigami and whatever rules they played by. What would Lisa think if she knew? Only she knew—and she probably did, thanks to Urahara.

"Dammit!" He sank to his knees, hitting the ground hard as his bones shook. "Dammit! I'm sorry! Please, I'm sorry!"

Moisture gathered in his eyes. "I'm sorry. It was all my fault. Lisa, I'm sorry!" He punched the pavement. The concrete cracked. "I'd do anything to make it right!"

Another bird flew overhead and cast a shadow.

Well, they did say crows were beasts of Hell that feasted on the flesh of damned souls. Ichigo clawed the concrete but let his shoulders bunch, resigning to whatever punishment the Shinigami deemed fit. He deserved it all. "I'm sorry, everyone," he whispered.

The shadow lingered and enclosed on his body, blocking out the sun. This was one Hell of a crow. Ichigo gulped and peeked up at his fate. He'd take it head on like he always did, just like how he'd gotten his mother killed. After all, he was no coward—he stared bloody fate in the eyes when it had them.

His breath hitched at the sight.

A middle-aged man dressed in a tattered, black cloak floated above him, staring down through coffee-tinted glass as his black hair flowed in the heat—the image of death itself.

So this was it—the agent of the death gods here to administer retribution. Ichigo braced himself and prepared for the worst.

The man only stared, face emotionless.

Ichigo dared to speak. "Get it over with."

"No," his voice thundered in a low rumble.

A scowl pulled at Ichigo's brows. "Fine. I'll take it however—"

"Do you know who I am, Ichigo?"

A pointless question. "A Shinigami? Or at least sent by them?"

"No."

Back straightening, Ichigo jumped onto his feet. "What?! Then who are you! A devil?!"

"I am…" his voice drifted into a low whisper that licked at Ichigo's ears.

"I couldn't hear," Ichigo said and took a step forward. The being radiated some sort of spirit energy similar to that of Lisa's but lacked the texture of hers. This energy felt invasive, dangerous and caustic. It pulled at Ichigo's body and heat and threated to devour Ichigo if he challenged the aura.

The man's head inclined by a degree. "That is a shame, that you can't hear my name."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he took in the situation. He had to be careful here, around supernatural being like these—especially in a Hell like this. "What does that mean? Why can't I hear your name?"

"That you are unworthy of the power which you seek through the use of that Asauchi."

Ichigo stepped back. A swirl of confusion drowned his thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"It is as I said. You are unworthy of what that Asauchi has forcibly unlocked within you." His spirit energy heated. "The power which you seek is beyond your comprehension." A colossal spiritual pressure barrelled down onto Ichigo. He could barely stand. "Perhaps you should leave and return here after a lifetime to try this again," the man sneered and swiped a hand downward.

Did he mean the Asauchi sent him to Hell? As some kind of test to unlock his spirit energy? Ichigo could believe it.

Before Ichigo could retort, a glowing, blue-white bolt of plasma flew at him. He threw his body to the right, the attack grazing his shoulder and missing his neck by inches. He swore as a searing sting spread through him. "Leave?" he panted while he clutched his wound. Hot, sticky blood seeped through his fingers, the stench of iron whiffing up his nose. His teeth barred as he fought back the pain. "I didn't ask to be sent to Hell, dammit! I'm sorry! I failed mom! I didn't mean to get her killed do you understand?! All I want is the power to protect my remaining friends and family!"

The man swiped again, a burst of pressure cascading forth.

Ichigo dove left just in time. The bolt hit a tower, then fused into the glass panes and shattered into a shower of sparks, raining onto Ichigo's back. He screamed as molten pieces dug into his skin. White stars blotched his vision—this was too much. "How do I leave?! Send me back to Karakura!"

The man was already upon him. "Pathetic. How can you protect them when you can't even protect yourself?" He glared and raised his hand a third time.

Time dilated. Adrenaline pulsed through Ichigo's burning body.

Ichigo rolled as the third bolt formed.

Surprisingly, he dodged by a wide margin.

He ran, his legs sprinting on their own accord as his mind descended into a flurry of thoughts.

The man wasn't a Shinigami. His power felt too different—too toxic and destructive and bleak. Nothing like the Kido Lisa displayed or the spirit energy he'd felt in her body, vibrant and lively and wholesome. It was the exact opposite. Was this the power of Hell? The power of evil? Why did the Asauchi choose this as a test?

Blood dripped onto the road as Ichigo ran around a skyscraper. He looked over his shoulder. He'd lost the hellish man. A whisper of wind blew onto his wound and stung as he slumped against a steel beam. His vision blurred—he'd lost so much blood. Breaths left his mouth in pained gasps.

The words of the man rewound over and over. How could he protect them? He couldn't even protect himself. It was true… All true. Mom had died protecting him, her dead body shielding him from whatever had gotten to her. Goat-chin always had to tend to wounds when Ichigo came home injured after a fight. Yuzu had to cook, despite being so young. They'd all been protecting him, despite his name being the number one protector. He was the protected, not the protector. He'd failed everyone—and now he was about to fail Lisa as this trial overwhelmed him.

Lisa. Lisa. Lisa. Her beautiful name. It wouldn't leave him alone. He couldn't let her down. She was his sun—as bright and warm as the sun that shone upon him now. He had to do this for her, endure this pain for her, fight the devil that the Asauchi sent. This test couldn't be failed else Ichigo wouldn't be able to look himself in the mirror again. This was his final chance to prove himself, to prove his worth to Lisa and his family.

While Ichigo's breathing calmed, he reached out with his newfound sense and searched for the man's spiritual signature. He'd know the sensation of his energy from several miles away now—unnatural and grey just like these buildings. He found the devil a hundred meters away, unmoving, observing. The devil allowed for a reprieve while Ichigo's wounds coagulated. He certainly needed the time.

"Lisa," Ichigo breathed, "how do I beat him? How do I prove myself to you? I'll do anything. The Asauchi won't win. I'll beat this trial." He held his hand over his heart and made the vow.

A multilayered, distorted voice rang in his ears. "Tch, anything?"

Flinching before the newcomer could land a blow, Ichigo reeled and spun away from the blood-smeared wall. "Who's there?!"

He cackled, the sound of madness. "Look up!"

Ichigo ducked and ran under a support beam before glancing to where the voice sounded from.

Between two towers, chains and crystal needles suspended a humanoid figure.

Ichigo whirled and ducked again, his heart pounding thrice a second for that was a real devil, a real demon straight out of his Hentai magazines. The thing had white skin, a grinning, horned skull, and a gaping, circular hole that cut through his chest. This was Hell through and through.

"What are you?!" Ichigo yelled without leaving cover.

The thing shouted, "I am…" Its voice muted into whispers—just like the cloaked devil's voice had done so.

"Why can't I hear your name?!"

"You already know the answer, King!"

King? "What?!"

Only inane laughter rattled in the air.

"Are you part the Asauchi's test?! Answer me!"

"Can't you feel it?" The thing's voice wrapped around Ichigo's head. A wave of goosebumps brushed his neck and ribs. "Is it not obvious?" it taunted, amusement in its mangled speech.

Ichigo batted the air next to his ears. "Back off!" he snapped, but still tempted to do as it said. There'd be no harm in testing the waters and gaining a feel for its strength and energy—Ichigo could retreat in a heartbeat if things went south. Mentally, but not physically. He was still a wounded dog compared to these two supernatural beings. But he had to take a risk to make progress. He owed it to Lisa.

A large breath later, Ichigo settled back into a semi-meditation before a final hesitation nudged his legs. What if this was a trap? He didn't know all the finer intricacies of spiritual sense and how it could be used as a weapon—if it could be used as a weapon. But he had to know what that thing was… its name shared a connection with that human devil back there. His jaw hardened as his decision finalised. Go for it head on. Casting a net of spiritual sense, Ichigo closed his eyes and focused on the monster. Tendrils of spirit energy seeped from the thing, dark, malevolent, and deeply tainted with a feeling of melancholy. The energy repulsed Ichigo to his bones, to every fibre of his body because it was exactly what he'd felt during all those lonely days and nights for six whole years.

But it was there, beyond all else like a blazing beacon within darkness—the spirit energy of a Shinigami. No matter how corrupt, that thing was a Shinigami at the core. Just like Lisa.

A cold epiphany hit him in the temple. Did Lisa possess a form like this? Is this what she meant? Did all Shinigami hide away a dark side within them that punched a yawning hole where their hearts beat?

Ichigo sucked in a breath, his body shaking. "Are you a Shinigami?! Is that your true form?!"

"So the King's figured it out," it said, then laughed three, long breaths. "And here I thought it'd take years."

A confirmation—more or less. Ichigo nodded. "How do I pass this trial?! And why do you keep calling me king?"

Its voice dipped to a serious tone. "Because that's what you are, Ichigo." The way it said his name drove a shudder down his torso. "This world. These buildings. Me and the manifestation of… over there. You are the King of this world and everything in it."

It's explanation only further confused Ichigo, sparking a myriad of more questions. "This world? How am I the king of Hell?"

It roared an ear-splitting screech that ate Ichigo's innards for the longest seconds, then said, "Does this look like Hell?"

"Yes," Ichigo simply stated—a fact.

"You're wrong!"

"Then where am I?"

It screeched again. Ichigo gritted his teeth. "Release me from these chains and I will tell you!"

Taking another peek and checking for that devil who still hadn't moved, Ichigo examined its bindings and crystalline cage. Links of oversized, rusted chain wrapped around the twin towers and pulled at the thing's limbs and chest. A cage of light-blue crystals threated to impale it at any moment if it moved too far in any direction. A thin, near-invisible thread of fabric-like energy enveloped the whole construct and extended into the sky as high as Ichigo could see. He'd never be able to break this with his bare hand. "Will I pass the trial if I do that?" Ichigo asked.

"No, but… over there can and will have to—"

The cloaked devil flashed in front of Ichigo. "That is enough. It is time."

So fast.

"What do you want?" Ichigo said, staggering back.

"Only to protect you, Ichigo." His hand lifted and Ichigo turned, only to find himself bound in place by a pentagram of light. "When you touched that Asauchi, your destiny was sealed. I now have no choice but to release the bonds in your soul. Don't regret your decision. Always move forward and never let it rain in this world again."

A frown spread across Ichigo's forehead. This guy had been attacking him relentlessly minutes prior and now just pulled a one-eighty. This devil wanted to protect him, or so he claimed... "What do you mea—"

Spirit energy erupted from the pentagram. His vision faded to white.

* * *

A/N

Might be a bit rough, but enjoy! I'm thinking to do major edits/minor rewrites soonish(trademark). Pls review and follow!


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Lisa stared in shock. This wasn't supposed to happen. This had never happened in Shinigami history.

"Lisa," Ichigo said weakly.

A tide of adrenaline swelled through Lisa's body as he reached out to her. He stumbled forward, head and limbs crumpling like paper. His body thumped onto the floorboards while cold sparks tingled on Lisa's neck and back. Her breath quickened. Her eyes snapped to Kisuke.

"What happened?" Her question came out strong and steady, decades of combat experience bolstering her resolve. She'd never show a sliver of weakness—especially in front of someone like Kisuke Urahara.

"Hmmmmm," he mumbled and dragged out the sound. His shaded eyes didn't leave Ichigo.

Damn that eccentricity. Lisa dropped to her knees and placed a hand over Ichigo's chest. She closed her eyes and reached out with her trained sense, a high-level Shinigami ability that let one see and feel invisible spirit energy. Similar to manifesting spirit ribbons in many ways. She'd practised this technique every other week whilst brushing up on her Kido. It helped one shape the complex patterns of the higher Hado and Bakudo spells.

The boy's energy bled and bled in an enormous stream from a fissure cut into the center of his soul. Rivers of black, blue, red, and white flowed away from him—into the Asauchi, devoured with an insatiable thirst. The blade pulsated with his power, roiling and imploding every few seconds when the spirit energy grew too large. The Katana was being transformed… into something Lisa hadn't seen in over a hundred years. It couldn't be. Her jaw slacked.

The Katana began to split into two. A one in a million occurrence. less than a handful in history wielded a Zanpakuto like this—all possessing legendary strength. Captain Kyroraku, Captain Ukitake, and a few others whom Lisa couldn't recall the exact names of. They'd all been upper-echelon captains; they'd all made their mark on Shinigami history. Her captain alone had been mentioned in at least a thousand scrolls held in the great archives, telling tales of incredible battles and adventures and political triumphs. Kisuke and Yoruichi were right. The future was in the hands of Ichigo.

His spirit energy gushed at an increasing rate. Not even Lisa's captain had experienced this. He'd gone through the academy like any other upcoming Shinigami, prodigious, but it'd still taken him months to start communing and imprinting onto his Asauchi. And years to first release a Shikai. Kyoraku's voice retold the tale in her ears like she'd just heard it last week.

Lisa sighed and buried resurfacing memories of her old mentor and friend. It was too bad. She'd gotten along so well with him, despite having to kick him awake every now and then. He was kind and strong and had a unique, lithe personality. But she couldn't fuck him without causing a major scandal. She'd had to settle for less and none would take her as their girlfriend—her reputation plunged when people found out how deviant she was. They'd kept a safe distance for she'd been promoted to lieutenant after she'd achieved Shikai release and proved her strength—but none had wanted a relationship more than a one-nighter. Especially among the nobles. They wouldn't even greet her outside of formal occasions.

Though now, she had Ichigo, who seemed to only want her more and more as she revealed her kinks. He had to be either desperate or truly unique. Probably both. Lisa liked that quite a lot. Desperate guys were fun to play with. At first. It was fortunate for Ichigo that he'd grown up so much after one night—else Lisa might've gotten tired of him by now and discarded him onto the sidewalk.

She looked him up and down. No sign of regaining consciousness.

But his spirit energy flooded fast—too fast and too violently. His human body would be destroyed at this rate. Lisa grumbled, glancing at Kisuke. His eyes gazed at Ichigo, intent, calculating. What was he planning? If he got Ichigo hurt beyond repair… there'd be hell to pay, Lisa promised.

And soon enough, spots of blood appeared on Ichigo's shirt. The deluge was too much for his human flesh to handle, clearly.

"Help him," she said without looking at Kisuke, raising her hands to perform the little healing Kido she knew.

Intent and desire. Heal and protect. Light panic gripped her body. Lisa's trembling fingers couldn't summon a basic healing aura.

Green light illuminated the shop and a healing box encased Ichigo. "That should be enough… for now," Kisuke said.

Lisa nodded and balled her hands to stop them from shaking. She shouldn't be losing it, but she was no longer in control. This boy was quickly winning over her body and heart. No, not her heart… She'd guarded herself too well after her first and only heartbreak. But her body had been won by him last night too easily. She'd been too sex starved for the past century.

She took a breath and eyed the Asauchi in Ichigo's hand, her body struggling to calm whilst her eyes remained on his sharp face. The blade glowed a soft, black light. This couldn't be possible. She'd never heard or read of such a reaction to simply touching an Asauchi. It'd somehow torn open Ichigo's soul and made a direct link to his Soul Sleep. Asauchi weren't capable of this…

A scroll from the academy popped up in Lisa's mind, from two centuries ago but still clear. She'd read it in the academy library when she'd struggled to commune with her spirit. Asauchi were designed by their creator to be passive, taking as much time as possible to develop into one's Zanpakuto, minimising soul-shock. They'd feed off spirit energy of the first soul that touched its metal or the soul that dominated its existence—whatever that meant. Their shapes and spiritual makeups developed into unique forms over time. Powerful souls sped up the process while weaker souls might never imprint onto an Asauchi. It was said that the captain commander had only taken a week to first enter Jinzen.

So either Ichigo eclipsed the most powerful Shinigami in existence… or this one particular Asuachi was different.

A suspicion tugged at her. This had to be Kisuke's doing… only a madman would try something like this. And he was clearly desperate to involve Ichigo in his plans. Lisa's eyes narrowed.

She stood with measured caution and turned to the so-called shopkeeper, a hand on her hip. "What did you do to that Asauchi?"

He took out his fan, but Lisa snatched it.

"What did you do?" she repeated, tone dripping with threat that she hadn't used in decades.

Kisuke scratched his chin and grinned a goofy smile. "What makes you think I did anything?"

Bastard. Lisa resisted the urge to slap him. "We both know how Asauchi work. They're made to work as slowly as possible. Too quickly and the transformation can send a soul into shock" She nudged her head to Ichigo. "Like he is right now." She poked Kisuke's shoulder, her spirit energy meeting a solid wall of his. "So, what did you do?"

His eyes bulged to saucers. "Where did you hear that?"

"Shinigami Academy. Library." She steadied her breathing and the lid over her spiritual pressure. It'd do Ichigo no good to lose control now.

"Are you sure you read the right scrolls?" He pointed at her, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Of course. I'm not stupid. I don't just read Hentai all day, definitely not while I was still training to become a Shinigami in Soul Society." She smirked. "I'm just very curious every now and then," she recited her typical line that prevented conversations from descending into vulgar messes. And she was proud of how few guys matched her prowess in the bed too.

Kisuke laughed a few quiet breaths. "I see…"

"You see?" These conversations were maddening.

"You must have been too busy sleeping around to read all of them." He smiled a mouthful of teeth. Damn Kisuke. Damn that grin. "You see," he continued, "Asauchi are very interesting. They're given to academy entrants and their passivity helps students develop finer control over spirit energy, and as you say, to prevent soul-shock. But…" His goofy demeanour vanished.

Lisa leaned back an inch, the sudden change in his character unnerving her. "But?"

"That's not their only behaviour."

This was new. She'd never heard of this in two centuries. "Their behaviour?"

He nodded. "Asauchi have several behaviours. They are sentient, in a way, dormant most of the time, but when a soul feeds it spirit energy, they wake and behave rather well, obeying whichever setting they've been tuned to. A passive behaviour is what their creator recommends, but they can be ordered to behave in several ways… If you know how to issue an order to one."

"And you ordered it to…" Lisa swallowed a ball of anger. "Do this to Ichigo? Almost killing him just to speed up his development?"

"Yes."

She saw white. Her veins blazed and her pulse hammered up her neck. "Why—"

A different voice cut in from the right. Yoruichi. "If he went through the typical regime, it would be dangerous for those around him if he lost control of his spirit energy or if it flared and suddenly grew. Especially for someone as powerful as he is. We're already taking a massive risk by letting him roam free in the living world with leaking energy. We have no choice. It's best if he gained proficiency in one fell swoop. This week. We can do it. We're captains and lieutenants. Think. Calm down."

Lisa swallowed several times, gritting her teeth. Yoruichi's words made sense. Every word, Lisa grudgingly admitted. But her anger wouldn't subside. Kisuke could've gotten Ichigo killed, destroyed his human life—or even worse. She couldn't imagine worse. Worse would be unthinkable.

Gods, Strawberry was affecting her too much. He'd slipped through her walls and now she couldn't think straight.

She shoved her feelings into a box and nodded. "Of course," she said and looked away.

Yoruichi pawed in front of her, those cat eyes large and numbing. She could always read Lisa with ease. "My my—"

Lisa shot her a scowl. "Don't say it."

Yoruichi smiled—if a cat could smile. Her whiskers lifted by a fraction.

Kisuke leaned into view, grinning like a buffoon again. What a guy. "What's this? Is little old Lisa—"

"Shut it!" Lisa threw the fan into his face and walked to the nearest door—the one with the living room symbol similar to those in the Seireitei. It was an ancient language from Soul Society. The world of the afterlife that she'd been exiled from. The world she rightfully belonged to—that a near-immortal belonged to.

She looked back at the duo, then said, "He's just a human. A boy. He'll forget about me in a few years at most. This is just a fleeting attraction." The lies flowed like sticky syrup.

Lisa didn't know whether she was lying to herself or them. True, Ichigo promised to stay with her, but what was the value of a fifteen-year-old's vow? He was powerful, cute, and fucked like a beast when pushed enough. But he was just a boy! What made him so special? Lisa hadn't planned for this. He was supposed to be her sexual plaything and no more. Maybe she shouldn't have let her lust rule her and just stuck to training him yesterday. And maybe this whole escapade was a mistake. Damn Isshin Shiba. Damn Kisuke Urahara. Why did they have to meddle?

"I knew it," Kisuke chirped, "two perverts meant for each other!"

So they did cook up this plot together.

"Fuck off," Lisa said.

Yoruichi chuckled, then licked her paw. "You'll have to win over his sisters first. They're very protective of him, apparently."

Lisa blinked. Sisters?

Oh right. Ichigo had two younger sisters, both on a school camping trip with Isshin.

Before she could contemplate on that fact, Ichigo's spirit energy geysered in a plume of visible black and white miasma, thrashing in the healing box. A pulse of spiritual pressure passed through her. Strong—at least the level of a seated officer, tenth or eleventh seat. Impressive. He'd be prodigious at this rate if he studied the arts and applied himself to the limit.

Lisa eyed the door, then back to Ichigo. She sighed and sauntered back. He'd want her at his side, always. And she wanted to be at his side too.

Yoruichi sat next to her. "You two are good for each other."

True. "Hmph."

While Lisa concentrated on ignoring the two, Kisuke beamed at her with glee at the corner of her eye. Her hand twitched, swiping at where her Zanpakuto should be. She'd always fantasised cutting him down when he stepped on her nerves. This was one guy she held no attraction for.

Ichigo's spirit energy kept swirling and obscured the view of his body, much to Lisa's chagrin. A desire to break the box and cast a wind Kido toiled at her arm.

It'd only do more harm than good, she repeated to herself as Kisuke snickered. Her knuckles cracked. Damn him to the depth of hell. "Can you do something about his spirit energy?" Lisa asked, annoyance clear in her voice.

Yoruichi answered, "It's best not to disturb the process other than heal him. This bath of energy may be important."

"Wouldn't it disintegrate his body?"

"His flesh and bones seem to be holding. Calm down and feel." Yoruichi's tail whipped around and tapped Lisa's leg. "Don't let Kisuke get to you. Just imagine he's a defective mod soul."

Lisa chuckled once, then exhaled, nodding once. She trusted Yoruichi. They'd developed a sisterly bond over the century.

Reaching out with spiritual sense once again, Lisa tasted a small lick of Ichigo's power. A frown pulled at her brows. She'd never felt anything like this either. The spirit energy was multifaceted, split into two distinct threads woven in a binding, unique Kido-like pattern. The two warred and fought for dominance in a stalemate but strengthened one another. Incredible. The two opposites were stronger together than separated. Not even Kyoraku's spirit energy had been this way, even in Shikai. Every Shinigami had to hold their soul in harmony else their power rejected them. How could a human be unique in so many ways?

The two halves of his power danced and weaved, pouring into the Asauchi in thick ropes. Lisa couldn't discern the individual strands that made up each braid—likely representing his dual bladed Zanpakuto.

Lisa brushed off the curiosity for his power and fixated on his body.

And indeed, he was injury free.

Kisuke cracked another comment about their blossoming relationship. It barely registered in her ears that were focused on Ichigo's frantic heart. Though a tick still formed on her forehead.

She settled into a meditative trance, clearing her mind of all feelings, worry, and annoyance that assaulted her psyche this hectic hour. Her warrior resolve had weakened so much, too much. Her Hollowfied Zanpakuto spirit could act again any moment and feed on her despairs. Haguro Tonbo pounced on any strand of weakness and despair. Lisa vowed to never fall into that ditch again.

Thousands of breaths, thousands of heartbeats passed while Ichigo's spirit energy flowed around her form. Yoruichi and Kisuke hadn't interrupted her, for they knew the consequences if her Hollow side was unleashed. She was the weakest of the Vizards, not in strength, but in resolve and control over their inner demons. Her Hollow spirit had to be suppressed a dozen times over the century, stronger and more vicious each time she'd lost control. She feared for what'd happen these coming years with Ichigo in her life, reviving feelings long buried. She'd deal with them later—when Ichigo was safe and conscious.

There, a brilliant spark of spirit energy shone with enough intensity that it blinded Lisa's sixth sense, far greater than anything she'd ever felt. A heartbeat later, it was gone.

What was that?

Dazed, Lisa cranked open her eyes.

Ichigo's spiritual outpour began to settle, his spirit energy dispersing into the healing Kido.

Lisa's heart banged against her ribs twice. Lisa flinched towards the box.

A large gash tore into his shoulder, missing his neck and a vital spot by millimetres. His human body laid in a pool of blood.

No. Please no.

Lisa's hand glowed green.

Though the healing box was already on the job. Flesh knitted back together in a grotesque weave. Blood flowed back into his body, seeping through clothing and skin.

She lowered her hand, remembering to stay calm. Her inner-Hollow had to be waking by now. She tore her gaze away from the gore.

"Is it over?" she asked, turning to Yoruichi. "Why isn't he waking?"

"It should be soon. Look." Her paw pointed to—

Two swords lay on floorboards. One long, one short. Just like Lisa's captain. She shook her head, unsure of what fate would be wrought upon her. Either, this would be her greatest romance or deepest heartbreak. But if this was how she'd finally pay back Aizen and Soul Society… Then so be it. She was ready for anything.

* * *

 **A/N**

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